Flies in the Sky
by raiseyourpinky
Summary: Dean is a regular boy-next-door type of guy. That is, until the night he is possessed, hit in the head, exorcised, and carried into the safety on an old Impala by a hunter named Castiel. After learning of the existence of supernatural creatures, much to Dean's dismay, he is unable to get rid of Castiel.
1. The Nest

_I feel I should give a quick warning about this story's content. This is an AU, in which Dean Winchester and Sam Wesson are not at all related, but they ARE in a romantic relationship. If that's not your thing that's totally cool. It was inspired by the episode 4x17 "It's a Terrible Life." It is a Dean/Castiel slash fic, but this is not a love-at-first-sight story either. Expect Greek Mythology, apocalyptic nonsense, and karaoke._

* * *

Dean Winchester was the Director of Sales & Marketing at Smith, Inc. He drove a silver Prius, wore suspenders under his coat suits, and had a balanced diet that could be easily mistaken as rabbit food. He lived in a penthouse in the wealthy side of Lawrence, Kansas, and had a boyfriend who loved him in spite of his romantic affair with his job. All in all, Dean was living the apple pie life he'd always dreamed of.

"Hey," Sam said, entering his office unannounced. Dean recognized the playful smirk on his face.

"Hey," Dean said, stretching back in his chair, finally realizing he'd been uncomfortable in his unmoving position.

Sam Wesson had been Dean's boyfriend since they met in college. And then Sam decided to go to law school, and Dean got a great job, and yet here they still were. Together, and happy.

Dean got up from his chair, rubbing at his eyes to clear his blurry vision. Sam met him halfway across the room and planted a kiss on his lips, which Dean returned effortlessly. That was the thing with Sam, he always initiated the kisses.

"You ready to go, or should I stay and keep you company?" Sam asked, leaving his hands to hover on Dean's waist.

"Nah," Dean said. "We should go. I'm hungry."

"Great," Sam said as Dean pulled away and packed up his things. "I'll make us some amazing salads when we get to your place."

Dean smiled, having gathered all his belongings in his messenger bag, and reached for Sam's hand. "You know, that does sound pretty good right now."

"Are you tired? I'm feeling generous tonight. Maybe I could even slip a foot rub after dinner."

"This is why I love you," Dean said, as they went into the elevator.

Sam kept his word and made and served two delicious salads, customized for each of them, since they never agreed on the toppings or salad dressings. And after dinner, Dean lay on his couch while Sam massaged his foot with all the care in the world.

"How was work, Sammy?" Dean asked, shutting his eyes to sink into the relaxation process that came with a delicious foot rub.

"Sam," he corrected quietly before he continued, "I have a ton of cases to look over, but hey, that's the fun of being an attorney, right?"

"Hmm, so much fun."

"Am I boring you, Dean?"

"What?" Dean flashed opened his eyes, having almost drifted off to sleep for a second. "No, Sammy, I was just—I guess I'm real tired."

"I was going to ask if you wanted me to spend the night, but I think I should leave you to rest."

Dean pulled his feet away and sat up on the couch, facing Sam and leaning closer. "I want you to stay," he muttered.

"Really?" Sam asked with a smile spreading across his face. If there was one thing Dean would never have enough of, it was Sam's smiles.

"Yeah, man, but no spooning." Dean winked, but he was hardly smooth, so his other eye closed after the other, and it was nothing more than a blink.

"No spooning," Sam agreed and gave a full throttle laugh that filled the usually empty house.

Sam followed Dean into his bedroom and they lied under the sheets, close enough to feel each other's warmth, but not close enough for physical contact. Dean was simply too tired.

The following morning, Dean woke up before Sam in order to cook him breakfast. It was their thing, cooking for each other, but as of late, Sam had been the one doing most of the cooking.

Dean placed the whole wheat toast sprayed with I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter on a plate and then added it to the tray along with a bowl of oatmeal. He poured a glass of almond milk (unsweetened) and then he traveled slowly with everything into his room. Sam was in between a loud bear-like snore, and Dean set down the tray on his side of his memory foam mattress, since it ran a very low risk of moving.

"Wake up, sleepy head." Dean ran a hand through Sam's forehead, and when that didn't work, he pulled the sheets off of him.

Sam bolted up right, scanning the room with wide eyes. "Dean, what the hell?"

"My bad," Dean mumbled, chuckling. "Want some breakfast?"

Sam looked to the side of the bed and automatically grinned. "You made me this?"

"'Course I did. You always make me breakfast in bed, so I wanted to beat you to it instead."

"Thank you." Sam grabbed a piece of toast and began chewing on it, seemingly delighted. "I have a better idea on how to thank you even better tonight."

Dean felt blood rush to his face, and he looked away. "Um…Oh shit, Sammy, I can't. Not tonight, Sam, I'm sorry."

"Why not?" He looked more worried than disappointed, but Dean couldn't help but feel bad.

"I have a meeting with Zachariah. Those things take a century to end, you know that. I'm really sorry."

"Right," Sam said, resigned, taking another bite of his toast. "How is it that I always find time for us, but you can't? I'm a lawyer, Dean. You're a—"

Dean raised an eyebrow and folded his arms in front of him. "Go on, spit it out."

"Dean, look," Sam put down his toast and got out of bed. "I love my career. But I also love to spend time with my boyfriend, and if I have to keep making appointments for us to meet, then I…"

"You what? You're going to leave me?" Dean said. "Aren't you the one who's always telling me I'm the one who's giving up on this, on what we have?"

"And you still can't see it, Dean. You don't see how little you actually care about this." Sam got dressed and left Dean's home.

Dean didn't have much time to think about Sam or the state of their relationship because he had a full day's worth of work to focus on. And he was glad for it. The meeting with Zachariah was as long as he'd predicted, and by the time he left the office, his watch stated that it was ten after midnight. Dean pulled out his cellphone and read his text messages.

Sam: _Are you still working? I've been thinking about this morning, and I feel like crap._

Sam: _Dean, I'm not going to apologize because what I said is true._

Sam: _Maybe we should talk. And no, this isn't code language for: I want to break up. Call me._

Dean took a deep breath and pressed dial to Sam's number. He heard the phone ringing four times before Sam picked up.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Just got off work?" Sam asked, conversationally.

"Yeah." And Dean didn't know what to say to him.

"Do you remember when we met?"

Dean smiled, his mind flashing back to the day Sam walked into his English class, with much shorter hair. Dean hated him because Sam was a know-it-all who kept raising his hands with all the right answers and politely correcting their professor. He was such a nerd, and Dean, well, wasn't (even though, yeah, it was Stanford). Later on during the semester, Sam chose to sit beside him and Dean kept sending him deathly glares, which Sam didn't seem to mind.

"I kissed you first," Sam said, bringing Dean back to the present.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about how much I despised you for being such a smarty-pants."

"Hey, I tutored you and made you the proud owner of an A in English Comp; I think I deserved that kiss years later."

"Yeah, well," Dean said, hopping into his Prius. "I'm glad you did."

"But do you remember how it used to be?"

Dean turned on the ignition, lowering the volume to the radio. "Sure, Sammy. We were best friends. It was awesome."

"_Were_? As in, not anymore?"

"We still are."

Sam was quiet for a long moment, and Dean didn't know how to break the silence. "Do you ever wonder if we lost our friendship in the middle of our relationship?"

Dean stared at the lights of the passing cars, resting his head against the seat. "I dunno. Things change, I guess."

"People change, too."

Dean yawned into the phone. "You mind if we continue our conversation tomorrow? I'm—"

"Tired. Yeah, I know the drill." Sam sighed. "Talk to you tomorrow, Dean."

"Good night."

Sam hung up without saying goodbye or goodnight and Dean was too tired to care.

On the way back home, Dean spotted a park lighted up only by the orange glow of a street lamp. He used to love to come with Sam to this park, and just lay watching the night sky. Sometimes they were greeted by hundreds of stars and a big bright moon. Other nights, the sky was cloudy and dull, but regardless, it was a show worth seeing.

Dean parked on the street and got out of his Prius, setting the alarm on it, just in case. He walked to the park, stuffing his hands into his coat because the night was chilly. He glanced over at the playground, but kept walking. He wanted to sit at the same wooden bench filled with graffiti from many different couples. One of the permanently marked declarations of love was of Sam and him. Dean sat on the bench, running his fingers on top of their names and their promise of an eternal union.

And in that instant, the loud blow of the winds ruffled the trees around him, and before he could react, it happened. The black snake-like trail of smoke moved on a trackless sky and, even though he tried to stop it, the smoke made its way down his throat with the speed of a mustang in a highway and the weight and pressure of an eighteen-wheeler.

When Dean opened his eyes again, he was inside of a car, and even though his mind was hazy, and somehow scratched, he recognized that this car wasn't his Prius. He looked out the windshield that was being splashed with hard-hitting rain.

"It's coming down heavy, isn't it?" A gravelly voice said from the driver's seat.

Dean shook, startled. He wasn't aware that there was anyone else in the strange vehicle with him, and his mind felt pretty numb that he didn't think to put two plus two together.

The person who'd spoken smiled at him, and Dean narrowed his eyes as he stared at him. The man looked to be around his age (mid-thirties) and he had a halfway grown beard. Even in the darkness of the car, Dean could see the blue of his eyes. As the man smiled, his nose wrinkled in all the right places. Dean's head started to seriously hurt and he had to lean back against the leather seat.

"What the hell happened?" Dean asked, massaging his temples.

"Uh, do you want the truth or do you want the sugarcoated version?"

Dean watched the rain landing against the windows, and tried to block out the sound of it bumping against the ceiling of the car.

"The truth," Dean mumbled, closing his eyes and pressing his hands against his head.

"You were possessed."

"Are you high?" Dean asked.

The man shook his head and tilted his head to the side, resembling a curious animal.

"Then tell me what the hell happened to me? Last thing I remember, I swallowed a whole lot of smoke. Am I dying? That's a lifelong worth of smoking and it's now in my lungs and I'm going to fucking die."

"You're a real drama queen, you know that?"

Dean spared him a glare. "And you're out of your mind. Do you really expect me to believe that I was possessed? Maybe you shouldn't watch Supernatural Activity before going to bed."

"Paranormal Activity," he corrected.

"Yeah, you would know."

The other man smiled again, and then he looked ahead of him at the rain pouring down.

"My brothers and I, we were in Texas when we heard word from a friend about a hoard of demons creating mayhem in Lawrence. So, we all came here and it didn't take long for us to find them. Anyway, we always try to save the people these demons possess, but it's often easier, and necessary, to just shoot them and then exorcise them. Which is exactly what I intended for the demon before it went inside you."

"So what, you shot an innocent man, and then let the demon possess me and you spared my life? Do you want a fruit basket, Superman?"

"Oh it was nothing," he said, waving his sarcastic thank you away. "I didn't think I'd spared your life because I hit your head pretty hard with a shovel. I'm almost sure you have a concussion."

"No shit, dickhead. It still hurts."

The man shrugged, and after a moment, he extended his hand for Dean to shake. Dean watched him, incredulous, but the other man raised his eyebrows and hinted at his waiting hand, so Dean shook it.

"I'm Castiel," he said.

"Dean."

"Sorry about the concussion. It could have been worse. I almost left you stranded in the park, and I would have, if it hadn't been for the rain."

"Well, it's good to hear that a killer still has a bit of compassion left," Dean said, coldly.

Castiel frowned.

"Come on, don't tell me I hurt your feelings by calling you a killer," Dean said, checking to see if the doors were unlocked, and luckily they were. "You just confessed to a massacre of innocent people who just so happened to get possessed by demonic entities, which it all sounds too theatrical for my liking, but whatever. I won't report this to the authorities because you'd only end up in a mental hospital, but man, try to stay away from the hallucinogens, alright?" Dean opened the car door and got out.

The rain poured down on him and he could hardly see his surroundings, much less distinguish his car. He wasn't even too sure he was at the park anymore. He turned back to the car and noticed that Castiel had gotten out also, and he was watching him. Dean shook his head, knowing he would regret his stupid decision, but he got back in the car with the killer. Cas got back in, as well, and they both looked at each other's soaking wet bodies.

"We're ruining my leather seats," Castiel stated matter-of-factly. "I happen to be very attached to this particular Impala."

"Speaking of cars," Dean said, scooting as far away from Castiel as possible. "Where is my Prius?"

Castiel shrugged. "I got to the park after chasing the demon around for about a mile."

"And you carried me all the way to your car?"

"You're not that heavy, Dean, and I work out."

Dean sighed. Cas had had enough opportunities to kill him or hurt him, in the least, but instead he carried him to safety, well, moderate safety. He still didn't feel he could trust this man, but at least he knew he wasn't in imminent danger.

"Could you drive me to my car?" Dean asked, turning to look at Cas, who'd already been looking at him. His big blue eyes were wide, curious.

"Okay, sure." Cas started the car. Despite the windshield wipers, the road could hardly be seen with the pressure of the rain, therefore, Cas drove desperately slow.

Dean took a moment to realize he'd already given a nickname to the killer who claimed the existence of demons. If only Sam were here to see this.

After a long, dreadfully quiet drive to the park where it all happened, Dean could see the silver crystalized shape of his Prius and felt his muscles unhinging. He turned to Cas—Castiel—and tried to find something civilized to say, but couldn't come up with something instantly.

"You honestly think I'm insane," Castiel said, and it sounded more like a question.

"I'm sorry, man, but that's all I'm getting from you. Haven't you ever stopped to consider how fucking strange those stories sound?"

"Yeah, and I get it. I'm not normal. I'll never be normal. There's a whole world inside our own world filled with unimaginable creatures, and only a few of us are up to the job, while the rest of the population lives carefree."

"Stay away from those drugs, man. Really." Dean reached for the door handle when Cas stopped him. Dean turned to him again, this time feeling frightened.

"I know how you'll believe me," Cas said, his eyes bright even in the poor light. "Just wait here a second."

Dean didn't want to. Of course he didn't. But his body didn't move.

Cas closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Dear Anna, could you do me a huge favor and fly down here? I need you to help me with something. Won't take long."

"Cas—"

"Hello, Castiel," a redheaded woman said, who was suddenly in the backseat of the car.

Dean gasped and moved against the door on his side, as far away from both of them as possible.

"Who's this?" she asked, staring at Dean as if he were an uninvited guest to a party.

"His name's Dean," Cas said. "He got possessed a few minutes ago, but I think I scared him. He keeps accusing me of being on drugs." Cas grimaced at Dean, as if he'd been overly rude to him, but are you serious? "Oh, I'm such a jerk, um, Dean, this is Anna. She's an angel of the lord."

Dean breathed in and out until he could stabilize his heart, and once he did, he stared back at the silvery promise of an escape just a few feet away.

"Pleasure," Anna said.

"You can't be an angel," Dean mumbled, his head going back and forth from his car to the redheaded woman who could perform a very realistic magic trick. "Where's your…where's your halo, and shouldn't you have wings? And a harp? Can you even sing?"

Anna looked at Cas, with a crooked smile. "Your friend's funny."

"I'm not his friend," Dean snapped. "And I don't believe that a person can just magically appear in the backseat of a car. You were either just hiding there where I couldn't see you before, or you sneaked in while we were driving at five miles per hour. Whichever it is, I don't give a damn. I'm getting out of here."

Dean gripped the door handle once again, but in the flash of a second, he was sitting in the passenger seat, but of his Prius. Cas was on the driver's seat and Anna still in the backseat. It was as if they'd been somehow transported. Magic again.

"This isn't going to work for me," Dean said, looking from Anna to Castiel. "You both need to stop, and leave me the hell alone. I don't like what's happening here."

"But you believe me, right?" Cas asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "What the hell does it matter if I believe you or not? Why do you care so much about my opinion?"

Castiel looked at Anna, and she stared back at him. It looked as if they were having a silent conversation, and surely enough, seconds later she disappeared.

"I just…no one had ever called me a killer before," Castiel admitted. "And maybe I am a killer, well, I am, but I refuse to believe I'm a bad person. This, what I do, it's my family business. I save people, and I hunt things that go bump in the night. What do you do, Dean?"

"I work all week long, thank you very much."

Cas shook his head. "See, that's exactly why I've never gotten along with ordinary people. It's because you people are so blind about reality, and once all evidence is there, you still refuse to accept how meaningless your lives are in your own little fictional realities."

Dean leaned back into his seat again, feeling lightheaded. He was so tired, hell, he'd been tired. He wanted sleep, and he wanted Sam close by so he could tell him all about his horrible night.

"I believe you, Cas," Dean murmured. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with the truth."

"Nothing. That's why I'm here."

Dean stared back at Cas, and for a strange reason, one which Dean couldn't comprehend, the other man wasn't shied away. He kept his baby blue eyes firm on Dean's clear green ones. And then Dean's head hurt again, so he winced.

"You shouldn't be driving," Castiel said, with the smallest hint of concern.

"I need to get home, and your angel friend's gone, so I have to. Get out of my car."

Rather than doing what Dean specifically told him, Castiel put his hands on the wheels of his Prius and strapped his seatbelt on.

"Why are you doing that?" Dean couldn't help but ask.

"I believe in safety," Cas said, "but more than that, it's still raining hard, and I don't know the streets around here so well."

"No, that's not what I meant. Why are you still here? _Get out_."

"No," he said sternly, and then he gave him another friendly smile. "Where do you live, exactly?"

Dean scrunched his eyebrows. "The hell I'm telling you where I live, ow." His head was still pretty sore.

"Talk," Cas ordered. "I'll drive,"

Dean made his best grumpy bitchface (he'd learned that from Sam) and strapped himself with his seatbelt. He glared at Cas for a moment, and then he hissed his address and directions at him.

Cas managed to drive at the speed limit all the way to Dean's penthouse, and they were still in one whole piece. Dean opened the door once Cas returned the keys and Dean stepped out of his Prius, walking to his building.

"I think you need to wake up every couple hours," Castiel called to him, making Dean stop mid-step.

Dean turned around as Castiel approached him moderately slow. "I'll set an alarm," Dean said, continuing his walk to the building. As much as he fought against it, he still turned around again, "You can walk home, right? Or call a cab?"

Castiel smiled. "It's not me I'm worried about…"

"I will be fine, thanks." Dean kept walking, and just before he opened the building door, Castiel pulled it open for him. Dean sighed, and walked inside, ignoring the stupid smile that was still on Cas' stupid face.

"I'm no doctor, Dean, but I think you should get your head looked at." Castiel kept walking beside Dean, much to Dean's dislike.

"Maybe in the morning."

"Look," Castiel said, waiting with Dean in front of the elevators. "I know you probably hate me, and you want me to go, but is there anyone who could come and watch over you tonight?"

The elevator dinged open, and Dean stepped into it. Cas stood outside for a second, hesitatingly. Dean waved him goodbye, in hopes of him finally disappearing like Anna. But no, Castiel stepped inside the elevator, standing too close and staring at him.

Dean ran his hands over his face, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He uncovered his face, and looked over at Cas, who was now, thankfully, observing the rise of the elevator.

"You live in the last floor?" he asked all of a sudden. "Penthouse?"

"I can call my boyfriend, okay? Would that make you feel better?"

Cas blinked, staring at him again. "Yeah, if he's willing to drive in the rain."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know." Cas scratched the back of his head. "Most people are terrified of driving during a storm."

"Well, Sam isn't one of those people." Although, he actually was.

The elevator dinged again, and Dean stepped out of the elevator, with Cas following close behind. Dean decided to ignore him as he rounded the corner to his luxurious penthouse. Castiel stood at the door, watching Dean's home with something that looked like surprise.

Cas whistled. "You got a hell of a place, Dean." And just like that, uninvited and unwanted, Castiel walked inside Dean's home.

Dean hurriedly called Sam, in hopes that this weirdo would finally agree to leave, but Sam was insisting on not picking up. After the third try, his call went straight to voice mail.

"Hey, Sammy, I know it's late and all, but I kind of got a concussion. It's not bad or anything, but I, uh, got myself a help dog in my hands, so if you could call me back or come over right now, I'd really appreciate it. Um, alright, bye."

"You play golf?" Castiel asked. Dean turned around, only to find him touching and playing with his most precious golf clubs.

"Put. That. Down."

Castiel swung one of his clubs around in the air, nearly hitting a wall and scratching one of his eccentric plants. Dean ran over to him, snatching the club from his hands and putting it back where it belonged, way in the corner of his living room.

"So, what'd your boyfriend say?" Cas asked, stuffing his hands in his green jacket. Dean's eyes wandered to his plaid shirt underneath it, and then down to his holey jeans. He _looked_ like a hunter.

"He's on his way over," Dean lied.

"Cool, I'll wait for him." Cas made himself at home, sinking down on Dean's couch.

"No," Dean said, walking in front of him, to where Cas had to look up to meet his eyes. "You're going to go because I'm real tired."

"Then sleep."

Dean couldn't believe this guy. He lifted his hands helplessly in the air, grunted, and went into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

And maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, to leave this stranger (and killer) alone in his living room, but Dean was tired as hell, so he jumped into bed—still a little wet—shut his eyes, and in the matter of seconds, he was out.

The sunlight awoke him the next morning, and his most prominent thought was the one that told him he'd never been woken up during the night. Which, in other words, meant that Castiel was gone.

With that mentality and sudden joy, Dean got up, went into his bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, and change out of his clothes into a comfortable robe and house slippers. He watched the clear morning through his window, delighted in his ache-less head, and opened his bedroom door.

Dean heard Sam's laughter as he moved through his hallway, so he hurried to the living room, but his sudden blissful morning was destroyed as soon as he noticed the man who'd made Sam laugh.

Castiel was still here.

And not just here. He was having breakfast with Sam in Dean's kitchen. By the looks of it, Dean had interrupted a friendly chitchat. Both Sam and Cas looked at him once they noticed him, and Sam got up, walking up to Dean.

"Hey, Dean, how're you feeling?" Sam wondered, reaching for Dean's head.

Dean pulled away from Sam's touch, feeling betrayed somehow, but his eyes went straight to Castiel, who was drinking his almond milk.

"Why are you still here?" Dean asked, and then to Sam, "why is he still here?"

Sam looked confused. "I thought…he told me everything that happened, I thought you said he could stay. I got here this morning and we've been discussing my theories on the spirit world. He's a supernatural hunter, Dean, isn't that, just, unbelievable?"

"Is that your thing, Cas? To just go around spilling your life story to every person you try to kill and then to their boyfriends?"

"Dean, he was trying to stop the demon inside you, to exorcise it," Sam tried to explain patiently.

Meanwhile, Cas kept eating Dean's food, and Dean felt the acidic fluids traveling up his chest from his stomach. He was hungry, and he was angry, and his boyfriend was taking Castiel's side.

"French toast?" Castiel asked, offering Dean a plate filled with it.

"No, I don't want your food," Dean snapped. "Better yet, I don't want the food you made with my food."

"Have a seat, Dean," Sam insisted, pushing Dean to the chair next to Cas, since Castiel had taken the head of the table. Sam sat across from Dean, folding his hands on the table. "What is going on here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Dean said bitterly.

Cas watched them both as he chewed on his food, seemingly nonchalant.

"From what Castiel has told me," Sam said, "he saved your life, and not just that, but he made sure you got home safely. He waited for me to get here because he was worried about you. Isn't that right, Castiel?"

Cas nodded, downing his food with the milk. "Yes. I also made breakfast because I was starving, quite honestly."

"You see," Sam said, speaking with his problem-solving-lawyery voice. "So why are you so angry at Castiel? I find him entirely too interesting. Actually, he was telling me about a vampire nest his family's hunting down tonight. I will have to hit the books all day long. Can you believe monsters exist?"

Dean feigned a smile.

"Castiel, are you really okay with me tagging along for the vampire hunt tonight, then?" Sam asked, as if it were the most normal question to ask.

"What are you? Buffy?" Dean scoffed.

Sam ignored his remark, waiting for Cas to swallow his food and respond.

"As long as you lay low," Cas said, finishing the milk. "I can't promise you total safety, but as long as you're incognito, you'll survive."

"Right, right," Sam said calmly. "So, how long does it usually take you to finish them all off?"

Dean laughed humorlessly. "Are you hearing yourself, Sammy? You want to go play Ghostbusters with this psycho?"

"He can hear you," Sam said.

Cas nodded, still eating.

"Anyway," Sam said, his face filled with excitement. "Tell me more about tonight's hunt."

"Well, about the time, there's no way of telling," Cas said, talking while chewing. "But if I were to make a guess, I'd say about an hour, two at the most."

"I can't wait!" Sam said, much to Dean's disappointment.

"I don't feel comfortable with any of this," Dean mumbled, tapping his right leg anxiously. "Sam, you could get hurt. I know this may come as a shock, but you're the size of a moose, and if this guy thinks that you need to hide in order not to get killed, then you're as good as dead."

Sam made a perfect bitchface at Dean. "I think I am more than capable of hiding, Dean."

"He's not going," Dean said to Cas, and then to Sam, "you're not going."

"You're not the boss of me, Dean," Sam said, leaning forward on the table. "Since when do you even care what I do or don't do?"

"Since I decided I'm not losing my best friend, dammit!" Dean snapped and got up from his chair. He sat at the stool near his counter and slammed his fist on the marble surface. Seeing as Sam wasn't changing his mind, and Dean couldn't stop him, but Dean couldn't live with himself if Sammy got hurt, he made a stupid decision. "I'm coming with you."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. Dean wasn't sure, but he couldn't trust Castiel to watch out for Sam.

"Someone's gotta keep you company," Dean muttered, sighed, and walked back into his bedroom.

Castiel finally decided to get out of Dean's apartment when Dean and Sam had to head to work. He left with a promise to pick them both up at Dean's building at exactly ten o'clock. Dean dreaded the idea. He couldn't picture himself hiding back in a car just to peek at whatever Cas and the rest of his messed up family did on a hunt. But Sam seemed overly enthusiastic, so Dean didn't back down.

After another day at the office ended, Dean went home to change and fix himself a small salad. Just as he was cleaning up his dirty dishes, Sam arrived, fifteen minutes early.

"What the hell are you wearing, Dean?"

Dean looked at his clothes again, still not understanding Sam's question. He'd put on khaki pants, a white polo shirt, and a dark brown stripped cardigan.

"Are you going to teach a college course, professor?" Sam laughed, walking inside and heading straight for Dean's liquor cabinet.

"As far as I'm concerned, we're not even going to be seen."

"But I can see you," Sam said, downing a tequila shot down his throat. "On second thought, that is looking hotter and hotter."

Dean shook his head. "Bitch. Hand me a round, will you?"

Sam handed Dean a shot of tequila and Dean drank it, feeling the burn as it made its way to his system.

"Want another one?" Sam asked, already refilling his glass. Dean drank it, feeling a heat rise from the inside out, and he headed over to Sam, pressing his lips hard against him.

Sam grinned at Dean once he pulled away, drinking the rest of his drink at hand.

"You ready?" Sam asked.

"Not at all," Dean confessed.

"Me neither."

By the time Dean checked his watch and it read 9:59, Sam received a phone call.

"Castiel?...You're already here?...Yeah, we'll be right down…Okay….Yeah…Yeah…Alright, bye."

Dean waited for explanations, one of them being, "Why the hell does he have your number?"

"Are you jealous?" Sam asked, amused.

"No, of course not. But you can't be friends with someone like Castiel, Sam. It's not natural."

Sam rolled his eyes, walking to the door, and that's when Dean noticed Sam was carrying a backpack. He waited to ask him about it until they were in the elevator.

"I have to record this, Dean," Sam explained, as if it were totally obvious.

Once outside the building, Castiel waited outside of the dashing black old model car in which he placed Dean the night before. He wore a similar outfit to the one Dean had seen him on, but his hair was a bigger mess than he remembered. Not that he wanted to remember.

"Hey, Sam," Castiel said, smiling that friendly smile. "Dean," he added later.

"Oh, right," Sam said, turning quickly to Dean. "Castiel just told me that his brothers weren't very happy about us tagging along, so Cas recommends we don't speak to them."

"Great, it's one less maniac I'll have to deal with," Dean muttered, climbing into the backseat of the Impala. He took a moment to appreciate the extraordinary care inside the car.

Castiel and Sam both got in the car as well, and they were engaged the entire ride in an entirely absurd conversation about the strengths of several mythical creatures. When they got to the werewolf versus vampire smack-down, Dean stopped listening.

Dean watched as they left the city behind, traveling through dark desolated roads, which screamed danger. Halfway up the road, Cas parked his car inside the forest until it couldn't be easily spotted. Dean could work with this, being in the safety of this big car, hiding where no one could see them.

That was, until Cas said, "The nest is about a quarter of a mile from here, so you can either stay in the car and see if you catch anything, or you could get a little closer and hide behind a tree."

"WHAT?" Dean shouted, in case he hadn't heard correctly.

"Dean, we should go," Sam suggested. "I want to go."

"No," Dean hissed. "NO. No. Absolutely not. No. There is no way. No, Sam. No…no. Don't give me the puppy-dog look. I'm not falling for it, no matter how endearing it may be. Stop that."

Cas glanced back at Dean, sighing patiently. He turned to Sam, then, saying, "While you two decide, I need to get my things ready and meet up with my brothers. Remember, you two: lay low. And when you're hiding, try not to move so much or one of them might sniff your scent."

"ARE YOU HEARING THIS, SAM?" Dean yelled again.

Castiel shushed him at once. "Dean, would you please just shut the fuck up? Don't panic. If there's an emergency…maybe I should leave you two a gun."

"Yes, fantastic," Sam said.

"We don't know how to use guns," Dean mumbled.

"Well, they wouldn't really kill the vampires, so it's sort of useless anyway." And with that, Cas left Dean and Sam, completely unarmed and alone.

Both of them remained silent as they watched Castiel walking away with what looked like a rifle in one hand and a large machete on the other. Dean gave a small shudder that Sam didn't see.

Dean scooted forward to where he could see Sam's face. He felt slightly comforted at the sight.

"Could we just maybe—"

"No," Dean said firmly.

Sam scowled at Dean for a moment, unblinkingly. "I don't even know why I'm doing what you're telling me. I didn't need you to come babysit me, Dean. I can take care of myself, so I'm going alone."

Sam opened the door and stepped out before Dean could stop him. Dean exited the Impala without a beat, following close behind Sam, looking around him, but there was nothing but apparent darkness. His shoes kept crushing the fallen leaves and making incredible noise.

"Dammit, Sammy!" Dean hissed through his teeth.

"Keep your voice down," Sam ordered, watching his every footstep and surroundings.

Dean heard the mysterious noises of the animals hidden in the darkness, only recognizing the sound of the owls and crickets. He could have sworn he also heard growling from afar, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.

Sam had already pulled out his camcorder from his backpack, and he'd turned on the night vision on it, pointing it around them. Dean could finally distinguish the animals and insects making the noises. Dean wouldn't accept it out loud, but at this moment he was sure glad that Sam was such a nerd about everything.

"We don't know where they are, Sammy," Dean said, using his inside voice.

"I'm guessing a nest of vampires would need a place to hide."

"Wait," Dean said. "Aren't vampires supposed to sleep during daylight and awake during the night? Meaning that these bloodsuckers could be pretty much anywhere?" Dean turned around, fearing the slightest blow of the wind.

"No, Dean, calm down. Cas told me they were in the hibernation process, so they sleep day and night."

"Vampires hibernate?"

"He also said that attacking them during the day would only risk the chance of the general public of being caught in between."

Dean stopped walking as they spotted an old cabin in the clearing of the forest. Sam hid behind a large oak tree, while Dean moved behind another one. And Dean was right when he said that Sam was hardly hide-able. He pointed the camcorder at the cabin, waiting for the action to happen.

Dean didn't know where the action would be coming from since he didn't notice Cas or any of his brothers, guessing they must all be inside by now.

"Sam, can you see anything?" Dean whispered.

"What?" Sam mouthed back.

"Can you see," Dean said, mimicking the words with his hands. "Anything?"

Sam pointed to his ear and shrugged, returning his attention to the camcorder.

Dean watched the cabin again, feeling a strange chill in the air, but to his defense he'd never been this close to a cabin full of vampires. A few minutes later, Dean and Sam still hadn't moved more than two inches, and they started hearing the noises of the monsters being destroyed. There were growling noises, screaming, knocking and tumbling. In a matter of seconds, the wall facing their way broke a hole, and one of the vampires went flying out of it.

Dean moved further away from the cabin, resting against the tree as if the tree itself would protect him from disaster.

Sam, on the other hand, sneaked out of his hiding place, moving his camcorder closer for a better look. He was almost all the way uncovered, and Dean's nerves were on edge. He thought of the chances of the recovering vampire of finding them if he just walked up to Sam and shoved him back behind the tree. The chances weren't in his favor, but that didn't stop him.

Before Dean reached Sam, he heard the loud rustling of leafs and in no time, the vampire was making a jump for him. Dean evaded him, launching himself to the tree against Sam. The vampire was back on his feet in no time, and Dean stared frozen as he took notice of his shark-like set of teeth.

"Shit," Dean hissed, pulling on Sam's hand and running away, but as he supposed, the monster caught up to them in an instant.

Sam fell to the floor a few feet away from Dean, while Dean struggled underneath the vampire on top of him, who kept snapping his many teeth together and aiming them at Dean's throat. Dean realized his arms were weakening and he had absolutely no means of protection. He turned to look for Sam, only to find him paralyzed on the ground, doing nothing but watching with obvious fear.

Dean continued holding back the monster, merely expecting his death. The next thing he knew, he heard a loud whooshing sound right above him, and the creature was beheaded, consequently falling against him with all of its weight. Dean pushed him away, grunting.

"You okay?" Castiel asked, extending his hand to him. Dean took his hand, pushing himself to his feet with the help of Castiel. Cas then went to help Sam up as well, but Sam preferred to stay seated on the ground, staring at the headless vampire near him.

"Thanks, man," Dean told Castiel, who looked exhausted, and with another look at him, Dean saw the blood dripping from his neck. He'd been bitten.

"What the hell did you do, Dean?" Castiel asked, seemingly furious.

"I was just trying to hide Sam back behind the tree," and as Dean gave his explanation, he realized how stupid he'd been.

"Sam?" Castiel squatted down near Sam, while Dean picked up his camcorder from the ground. Sam was still staring at the vampire, unable to look away, speak or move.

"I think he's in shock," Dean said, reaching for him, forcing him to stand up. Dean almost had to pull all of his weight up.

Cas looked worriedly at Sam. With a sharp inhale, he turned and walked back to the cabin.

"Get him in the car," Cas said, his voice sounding strained.

Dean hung Sam's arm around his shoulder, nearly carrying him all the way back to the Impala. Sam hadn't spoken a word. Dean managed to get him to the backseat of the car, and he was glad to see it was big enough to fit Sam. He laid him down the length of the seat, and Sam closed his eyes at last, which wasn't better, but at least it wasn't as odd.

Dean went to sit in the passenger seat, watching out for signals of Cas. He didn't have to wait long because Castiel came out of the shadows in no time, but only this time he wasn't alone. Behind him were two other men, one of them taller and the other shorter than him. As they got closer to the car, Cas signaled for Dean to join them, so he got out. All three of them moved closer to him, and Dean was unsure of what to do since he wasn't supposed to speak to Cas' brothers.

"Dean, this is Michael," Cas pointed to the taller one with short dark hair. "And this is Gabriel," he signaled to the shorter one with longer and lighter hair, who was also sucking on a lollipop, but Dean figured it was normal. "Michael—Gabriel, this is Dean."

Dean offered his hand, which Michael shook, but Gabriel pulled out his lollipop only to inform him he'd "Pass" and Cas gave a tired sigh in response.

"Where's the other one?" the one named Michael asked. He carried two machetes and zero guns, while the other one, Gabriel, carried what looked like a 2 littler bottle of…blood.

Cas looked past Dean, to the backseat of the Impala. "Has he said anything?"

"No," Dean said, looking at Sam again, in hopes of him recovering miraculously. "I think he's sleeping."

Cas nodded.

"I hope this teaches you a lesson, Castiel," Michael said bitterly. "You can't bring your friends on a hunt. This isn't worth a field trip."

"Look, neither of us got hurt," Dean explained, calmly. "It was my mistake. And Cas didn't force either of us to come, we wanted to."

"You're lucky you're pretty," Gabriel said, before walking away to the main road.

Michael watched as Gabriel left, and then he placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"No more field trips," Michael told him, as if he were speaking to a child who had to learn the difference from right and wrong.

Cas ran a hand over his hair, shagging it up even more until his strands of hair were raising in every direction. He looked beat, but most of all, in front of Michael, Castiel looked angry.

"I'll meet you back at the hotel after I drop them off," Cas told Michael.

"You'll have to book a room separately, brother," Michael said, walking away in the same trail as Gabriel.

Cas glanced at Dean, offering a small grin before getting in the Impala. Dean went into the passenger seat, checking up on Sam, but there was nothing new about him. Cas turned the engine on and turned up the volume of the stereo. Don McLean's American Pie came on.

"You like this song?" Dean asked, but soon regretted it because Castiel had closed his eyes.

"Mmm," Cas hummed, opening his eyes as McLean sang "_Did you write the book of love, and do you have faith in God above if the Bible tells you so_?" Cas formed a more realistic smile as he looked at Dean.

"I was asking…'cause I like this song," Dean muttered.

"It's a very nice song," Cas said, putting his hands on the wheel and then driving away.

Dean concentrated on the song and only the song for most of its length, but he was overly curious about tonight's hunt.

"Cas," Dean said quietly, clearing his throat. "What happened during the vamp hunt? I'm assuming you caught all of them, but you were the only one I saw bleeding. And what's up with your brothers, are they usually this bitchy?"

Castiel laughed, turning to Dean where he could see his wrinkled nose in the process.

"Is that a friendly tone I'm hearing?" Cas said, sounding shocked and a little amused.

Dean was glad the car was dark because he could have sworn he was fucking blushing.

"I guess that's where I should have started," Dean said, checking back on Sam once again. "Hate to admit it, but I really do owe you my life. If not for the first time at the park, then for tonight. I could have been drained of my blood while Sam lied still as a rock, and I don't know what would have been worse. Thank you, Cas, really. Thank you for showing up at the right time."

Cas stared at the open road for a while, silent. But once the song changed into something of an entirely different genre, Cas turned to Dean, keeping his eyes away from the road just a couple seconds.

"It was foolish of me to allow you and Sam to join me tonight," he said, letting out a breath he'd been holding. "My brothers and I have never gotten along, which is exactly why I ride alone in my own car. They think I'm the black sheep of the family. What I did by bringing you two here just helped prove their case."

"They're idiots, that's what they are," Dean said, feeling suddenly furious at two men he didn't entirely know. "Cas, you told us what could happen, and if you think about it, we were actually lucky. How did you know I needed your big ass machete?"

"I just knew I had to get the one that escaped from me," Cas said earnestly. "But I'm also glad I was useful."

"Oh you were more than that," Dean said, but decided not to elaborate.

Castiel clenched his hands on the wheel. "I could have stopped the vampire from flying out of the cabin like that, but I was trying to get to their leader."

"Vampires have leaders?"

"Sure they do, at least the ones that travel in groups." Cas shook his head slowly, and then continued, "Michael told me he would kill the leader, to only take care of the ones on the ground. But I found him first, and he looked so vulnerable, so easy to kill. Except he woke up and alerted the rest of them, right before feasting on some of my O positive."

Dean nodded, understandingly. "What about the cuts in your hands?"

"Oh," Cas said, sounding surprised as he examined said hands. There were a few noticeable wounds there that Dean noticed, but then again, it was hard to explain why he was staring at Cas' hands. "I may have fallen while I was in there."

Dean looked over at Cas, wanting to laugh. "You're a real badass, aren't you?"

"I put everyone else to shame." Cas winked. Dean gave Cas credit because he knew how to wink properly.

"So," Dean said, curious still about something else, "what about your brothers?"

"What about them?"

"What's their problem?"

"I just told you, Dean," Cas said, turning down onto the street where Dean lived.

"What was up with Grumbly telling you to book a separate hotel room? And why was the Shorty McShorty with the blood eating candy after a full on killing spree?"

"Nice nicknames," Cas said, chuckling as he parked in the garage of Dean's building. He sighed after shutting the ignition. "Michael was just letting me know to stay away because they're pissed off. And Gabriel, well, he was being Gabriel. He likes getting cavities."

Dean nodded, taking in the information. "So, help me get Sam up to my bedroom?"

"Sounds like an indecent proposal, but yes, I will."

Between Dean and Cas, they managed to get Sam to the elevator, and then into Dean's penthouse. Sam wasn't entirely asleep, but he wasn't really putting his legs to work either. They laid Sam down in Dean's bed and then he took off his shoes while Cas removed his jacket. Once that was taken over with, Sam seemed to fall back asleep, and they closed the door to the room, walking back into the living room.

"How long will this last?" Dean wondered out loud, although he could use an answer.

"Sam's a big strong man," Cas said. "Give him a few hours of sleep and he'll be as good as new."

Dean nodded, his eyes wandering back to Cas' neck, now with dried blood. "This is going to sound so strange, but would you please let me clean you up?"

"What?"

"Your neck," Dean specified. "It looks so bad. After what you did tonight, I think it's the least I should do."

"Oh, yeah, I guess," Cas said, touching his wounded neck. "I'd forgotten about it."

"Sit down," Dean said, walking to his bathroom to get his first aid kid and a clean towel. He wet the towel and took the supplies back to Castiel, who was now on the couch.

"Dean, you don't have to do this because you think you owe me anything" Cas said, watching Dean's working hand as they pulled out some bandages from the kit.

Dean placed the wet towel on Castiel's neck, wiping off the dried blood. "I'm not," he said at last. "Could you finish that off?"

Castiel continued wiping blindly at his neck while Dean went to pour them both a glass of water. Dean returned with the waters, handing one of them to Cas, while he drank desperately from the other.

"Thanks," Cas said, downing his glass of water.

"Why do you do what you do, Cas?" Dean wondered, continuing the cleaning process of Castiel's neck. "Hey, would you mind removing your jacket so I can get a better look at the wound?"

Castiel slipped out of his jacket, tossing it on the couch, and Dean admired the many visible layers beneath his plaid shirt. He wondered if it was a hunter thing.

"Do what? Hunt?" Cas asked, looking straight at Dean's eyes, without boundaries.

"Yeah," Dean said, proceeding to shift Cas on the couch so that Dean could lean closer to his side. The dried blood was sticky, and the towel was already stained red.

Cas shrugged. "It gets me through the day."

"I remember you saying it was something of a family business," Dean muttered, removing the towel to run two soft fingers over the two punctures in Cas' neck. "Does it sting?"

"No," Cas said quietly.

Dean left his fingers there for another second before applying a great amount of Neosporin.

"My dad disappeared," Cas whispered, staring ahead of him. "When we learned the real reason for his disappearance was because he's dead, we became hunters."

Dean hesitated, stalling with unrolling the bandages in his hand. "How did your dad die?"

"He got possessed by a demon one night, when a couple hunters found him and tortured him in order to get him exorcised. He only lived long enough to tell us what happened."

"I'm sorry," Dean said, sincerely. "Did you ever find the hunters?"

"Not me," Cas said. "But my brothers made sure to take care of them."

Dean was now realizing that the bandage would look ridiculous around Cas' neck, so he put it back in his kit and pulled out a large squared Band-Aid instead. "This Band-Aid probably won't do much to help. Sadly, I'm not a doctor."

Castiel laughed. "You don't have to be. I'm good as new." He smiled, looking directly at Dean's eyes like he accustomed doing.

Dean blinked, considering something outstanding. "You're not going to turn into a vampire with that bite, are you?"

"No, no, of course not, Dean," Cas said, smirking sideways. "Maybe just a bat, though."

"I don't know what to expect anymore," Dean confessed. "I have a lot to reconsider. I mean, all my life I've lived under this false impression of what's real and what isn't. It feels like a blindfold has been removed from my eyes, you know?"

"It gets easier with time," Cas said, regarding Dean with eyes that spoke a million words. "We just have to learn to see more than a blue sky. We have to learn to teach poetry to a fish."

"Is that a metaphor for something, or can we really make that happen?" Dean asked, suddenly intrigued.

Cas smiled widely. "We could always give it a try someday."

Dean smiled in return. He wanted to believe that Castiel would stick around long enough to pass on some of his hunting knowledge.

"Well, I should probably get going," Cas said, getting up from the couch. He ran his hand over his patched up neck. "Thanks, for this. If it'd been up to me I would have just taken a shower to wash it all away." He snickered, backing away to the front door.

"Hey, um," Dean said, following Cas to the door. "How long will you stick around here in Lawrence?" Dean stood beside the door, staring intently at Cas' eyes. There was something about his eyes that required more than a quick glance.

Cas shrugged, blindly reaching for the doorknob. "It's usually up to Mike and Gabe. Although, from what I noticed earlier today, Gabriel found himself a girl to play with, so my guess is roughly a couple days more."

"He sounds charming," Dean said monotonously.

"At least you're not related." Cas opened the door and stepped out onto the hallway. He stood there, regarding Dean expectantly.

Dean considered his words before voicing them. "Cas…I will let you know when Sam gets better."

"Good," Cas said, walking back to the elevator. "Bye, Dean."

Dean waved Cas good-bye, a set of words stuck in his throat which couldn't find a way out.


	2. The Situation

"Hey, how are you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asked, sitting on the side of the bed as Sam's eyelids shuttered open.

Sam stretched his gigantic limbs on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with a confused look on his face. When Sam turned to Dean, he rose up quickly. "Dean, you're…you're okay? You didn't get hurt? Dean, what happened?"

"Sam, calm down, take a look at me." Dean pointed his hands to his hairless chest under his robe. "I'm still a sexy ass motherfucker, aren't I?"

"What the hell did that vampire do to you, Dean?" Sam asked, alarmed. "All I remember is that we fell and he was trying to bite you, but then everything went black. I think I heard you and Cas talking, and then I remember being in your house, but now I'm in your bed and I have to get to work." Sam jumped out of bed in a hurry. "Shit. Dammit, I have to meet with a client today. I have to meet Jessica Moore at nine, how could I forget? Oh, for the love of all that's holy, where are my pants?"

Dean felt at least relieved to see Sam's sudden recovery. It appeared that his genius mind was working perfectly fine. Dean retrieved Sam's pants from the ironing table because Dean thought his clothes needed a wash. Sam got dressed in no time.

"You want some breakfast?" Dean offered from the kitchen as he heated up some whole wheat waffles on the toaster. He wasn't in the mood for cooking.

"Gotta run," Sam mumbled, sliding past the couch and to the front door.

"Wait, don't forget your cellphone," Dean reminded him, signaling to the Blackberry on the coffee table.

"Right." Sam snatched it and left sooner than Dean's waffles popped up out of the toaster.

Zachariah walked into Dean's office with a smug expression plastered on his middle-aged face. He took one of the seats in front of Dean's large desk, folding his right leg on top of the left.

"Hello, sir," Dean said, looking away from his computer to face his boss.

"Dean," Zachariah said, as if delighting in the name itself. "You've been keeping yourself busy with work for this past quarter, haven't you?"

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, not fully understand Zachariah's point. "Have there been any problems with my work, sir? I've worked overtime most of this week."

"No, Dean, on the contrary," Zachariah said, unfolding his legs and leaning closer to the desk. "You are a fine employee, Winchester, the kind our company needs."

"That's great to hear, sir," Dean said, smiling. If there was one thing Dean loved more than his job, it was getting recognized for his efforts.

"How's your family doing? Your dad and brother, is it?"

Dean nodded, feeling slightly guilty for neglecting to give them a visit as of late.

"I'm sure you'd love to spend some quality time with both of them, Winchester," Zachariah said slowly, as if he feared Dean's reaction when he completed his speech. "I've been let aware that you need to receive your vacation days, and I think springtime is a nice occasion. You should consider going on a trip, visiting new cities. Get your mind out of work for a week or two."

Dean had to fight the urge of letting his jaw drop, but he couldn't do anything about the horrified look his face must have showed. "Why?" Dean asked, a simple question, really.

"I think I just explained that, Dean," Zachariah said, getting up and walking back out the door without further words.

Dean stared at his hands for a good ten minutes, his mind wandering all over the place. How could this happen to him? Dean lived for his job, for the only thing he knew how to do to feel productive. How could the company force him not to work? Who would take care of managing the sales floors? Who would make those important calls to the important people with the important information?

Dean took a few breaths, trying to find the good in the situation. He did have his dad and brother to visit, and part of him knew he really should. It wasn't as though they lived far away, actually their house—Dean's childhood home—was on the outskirts of town. He didn't like to visit them often, but they weren't the problem; it was the house in which they lived. The house that burned while Mary, his mother, was sleeping and 14 year old Dean and 2 year old Adam were at school. As painful as it was to relive that memory over again, his mind couldn't seize from flashing it back and replaying it whenever Dean considered entering that house again.

In the end, Dean decided that John and Adam were worth the miserable reminiscing, as they always were.

Dean gave his dad a call when he got to his house, letting him know he'd be arriving there the following day. As surprised as his dad was, he sounded welcoming and eager to see Dean again. It gave Dean a knot in his throat, because he knew it was ridiculous to have these fears as an adult. He wasn't a kid anymore. He had to move on.

Naturally, Dean called Sam next. Although his call went straight to voicemail, Sam called Dean back a few minutes later.

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey. What's up, are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I should ask you the same."

"I can tell you one thing: I resign from the supernatural world." Sam laughed humorlessly. "I no longer find any of that interesting, so now we're on the same page."

Dean settled comfortably on his couch, grinning to himself. "Sammy, something awful happened to me. It stung me worse than a knife puncturing an artery."

"Ooh, did your lover dump you because he finally realized he can't compete with my great hair?"

"That's not funny," Dean deadpanned. "I had to take my vacation days."

"So?"

"In a way, I think you might be right," Dean said, lifting his feet up on the couch, with shoes and all. "I was dumped by my job."

"Tragic."

Dean rolled his eyes, aware that Sam couldn't see. "Yeah, well, I'm going to stay at my dad's for the weekend, maybe longer. It all depends on you."

"Oh, am I included in your plans?" Sam asked, and Dean couldn't miss his bitter sarcasm.

"Sam, I'm trying here," Dean said, trying his best not to argue. "This is my offer, and you can either take it or leave it. I'd like it if you would come with me to that house." Dean gulped. He was honestly petrified of having to face that memory lane on his own.

Sam was silent for a moment, and then he finally said, "Dean, believe me when I say this, I know how tough it is for you to go back to that house, and there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you from feeling that way. I've always pushed everything aside whenever you ask me to go with you, but I'm in the middle of a very serious case and—"

"Sam," Dean interrupted him, running a hand through his hair. "I can't do this without you, man."

"Yes, you can, Dean. You faced a fucking vampire last night, don't tell me you can't. I wouldn't bail on you if this wasn't extremely important."

"Okay," Dean said shortly. He didn't recognize this feeling. The feeling Sam must have felt many times before thanks to him. It was different when he was on the receiving end.

"Give me a call if you need to talk, alright?"

"Okay, bye."

Dean had his bags all packed and stuffed in the trunk of his Prius the following morning. As soon as Dean got behind the wheel, he remembered Castiel, and the failed promise to let him know about Sam's well-being. Dean decided to give him a quick call, since he'd taken Cas' number from Sam's phone.

"Yeah, hello?"

"Hi, Cas," Dean said, checking his watch to make sure he was still good on time. His dad was expecting him for lunch.

"Dean," Cas said, and Dean could hear a smile in his voice. "I wasn't expecting your call anymore."

"I guess I shoulda called you yesterday, but then I had work and this is the time I remembered I owed you a call. Well, to not drag this on any more, Sam's fine. He's back to normal: moody, bitchy and sassy as hell."

Cas laughed on the other side of the line, his laughter rough and deep. "That's good to hear, although Sam called me last night. He was clear in telling me our friendship was over since he firmly believes that cutting all connections with me will keep him safe."

"Yeah, he doesn't play fair," Dean said. He thought, for a moment, how much he missed Sam's friendship in his life.

"I do hope you two don't ever run into any demon or monster again in your lives, but if that's the case, you know where to reach me. Salt and iron work like a charm on most occasions."

"Thanks for the tip and the help and the life-saving, Cas."

"Anytime," Cas said, sounding truly sincere.

Dean ended the call, turned on the ignition, and drove away to a place he didn't look forward to seeing again.

Sixteen years after the unfortunate house fire, and John's renovating skills, Dean's former house was livable, for lack of a better word. No one without a history of the incident would guess that this house had ever been burned and rotten in the past. But as much as he wanted, Dean couldn't forget.

John's red pickup truck was parked on the too-small driveway, so Dean left his Prius on the side of the street with all the pain in the world. He grabbed his bags and glanced at the silvery beauty behind him as he approached the front door. Before Dean could even put his bags down in order to knock, the door opened.

"Dean!" John said, with a smile the size of the ocean, and then he took Dean's bags and carried them inside. Dean wasn't used to so much paternal kindness.

"Hey, dad," Dean mumbled, making a beeline towards the living room couch. John had tossed Dean's bags on the carpeted floor beside the couch and then lounged down onto a big leather chair angled towards the TV.

"It's been months since you've been here, hasn't it?" John said, clasping his hands together and rubbing them as if the weather was cold and he had to warm up.

Dean nodded his head, staring around the familiar living room. Even the scent of the ancient flames lingered in the air. Although, Dean thought that could be purely psychological.

"You could always visit me, dad," Dean said.

"Yeah, but that's just not our style, son," John said, earnestly. Dean knew that his dad had never been too keen on Dean's luxurious lifestyle. John liked simplicity. He liked his old muddy boots and brown, worn leather jacket, and previously burned house that killed his wife.

Dean took notice of something important and said, "Where's Adam?"

"Baseball practice. He's got a game coming up, so he spends most of his time on the field with his team. He should be here anytime soon, though. Told him you were coming." Dean felt a little guilty for not only not visiting his family, but also not really staying in touch with them either. But his job was Dean's priority most of the time.

"Sam couldn't make it this time," Dean said, figuring he should explain Sam's absence. He'd always brought Sam along.

"Oh, how's he doing?" John asked. "You're still…"

"Together?" Dean took a breath before answering, "Yeah, we're still 'hanging on.' Or at least I think so. He has work, you know, and clients."

John nodded, seeming slightly uncomfortable. John had been accepting of Dean's openly-gayness ever since Dean revealed it in fourth grade, but he never did know how to deal with relationship talk with either of his sons. Not even the straight one.

"I hope you still have my fishing gear," Dean said after a moment of silence. "I was thinking of going finishing at the lake."

"It's all in its place, Dean," John said, smiling again. "Right where it's always been, just waiting for you." And then he got up to check on the baked potatoes because the Winchesters had baked potatoes for lunch.

Not long after, Adam walked through the threshold, sweaty and dirty from head to toe. Dean didn't say it out loud, but he enjoyed seeing his brother so full of life whenever he gave himself into his favorite sport. In a way, working was Dean's sport.

"Hey, little bro," Dean said, slumming down on the couch as Adam stood in front of him in the middle of the room. "How was practice?"

Adam picked up the bat he was dragging on the carpet, poking at his stuffy socks. "It was okay. We could use better players. I think a few more early morning practices and we might have a chance."

Dean chuckled, patting the cushion next to him. "Come talk to me about baseball."

"Dean, I have to shower," Adam said, rolling his eyes and walking away. "I'm also hungrier than Godzilla so I'm going to need the biggest potato, dad!"

Dean and John waited for Adam to finish his shower so that they could all eat their chili-stuffed baked potatoes. Dean knew that while he was in this house with the rest of the Winchesters, he had to behave like one of them. In other words, Dean had to stop being Dean the Sales Director of Smith, Inc., and instead be no more than Dean Winchester.

John laid his plate with his potato on his lap as he got comfortable on his chair again, while Adam put his plate on the armrest of the couch, and Dean did the same at the other end of the couch. John turned the TV on to what looked like a race car show. Meanwhile, Dean made a deal with his future self that if he broke his rigorous diet now, he would work out like crazy to burn off the calories and continue with stricter eating habits.

This is what Winchester bonding was truly about. Pigging out, all scattered in the living room, grunting at the stupidity of unknown people on television, and avoiding most emotional interactions with each other.

Dean was, in fact, home.

It wasn't like Dean didn't feel like himself whenever he wasn't overwhelmed with work, but then again, maybe he did. And having extra time in his hand and hardly anyone to talk to didn't help at all. So, he did the reasonable thing and put on a movie. The thing was that his dad's movie collection wasn't very broad. After searching through the bookshelf (without any books), he finally settled for a classic: The Dark Knight.

Seeing as his dad was set on working on his truck all day, and Dean had no intention in getting himself dirty pretending he knew a thing about cars, he watched the movie by himself. It wasn't like he didn't appreciate a good Batman movie, but it was always nice to have company to share his thoughts with. He thought of Sam, and how it was so much easier when they were simply friends who could watch a good movie together. He longed for that again.

Adam walked through the living room and into the kitchen, trying to seem inconspicuous, but then Dean heard the rattling of dishes and the sound of the cabinets opening and closing, so he went with him. Adam was drying the dishes and arranging them back in their place.

"What?" he asked, continuing with the process.

"You're busy?"

"I forgot to do this," Adam said, wiping a rag over a plate. "I don't want dad to have to deal with this when he gets back in."

"You want some help?" Dean offered, although there were only three glasses left for drying. "I'm watching a movie. We could make popcorn and watch it together." Dean struggled getting his offer out there because he didn't know how to be close with his younger brother. Dean had tried many times before, but Adam never seemed all that interested. And maybe it was just a phase, since he was about to graduate high school, move away to college and all that jazz. But Dean never stopped trying to get his brother to, well, like him more.

Adam smirked, finishing up with the last glass. "I'll watch the movie, but we don't have popcorn."

"Oh, I didn't think to check," Dean said. In his house, there was always popcorn. Maybe not salted or buttered, but there was popcorn dammit.

"Will you start it from the beginning?" Adam wondered, walking back to the living room and taking John's chair, which Dean kind of thought wasn't allowed. He'd never sat in his dad's chair before.

Dean took out the movie and put it back in, since the DVD player had no remote control available, and he had to watch through the trailers once again.

"If you want popcorn I could go get us some," Dean said.

Adam turned the chair to Dean; his face was much older, even though Dean hadn't seen him that long ago. His hair was also longer, wilder, too. It was all fitting to his eighteen-year-old-baseball-junkie self. Dean decided he wanted to know more than just that about his little brother.

"I can live without popcorn, Dean, thanks."

Dean grinned, turning back to the movie as Adam angled his chair back to the TV. As the movie finally started, Dean thought of a safe topic of conversation to bring up.

"How's school going?" And yes, school was as safe as it could get. "Senior year must be pretty busy, what with Prom and…oh, yeah, applying to colleges." Dean considered that Adam might not be applying to colleges, and if that were the case, he didn't want to pressure him into thinking that he was forced to do that.

Adam shrugged, but didn't turn to Dean. "Baseball's the one good thing about it. And I have a full-ride scholarship to UK."

"The United Kingdom?" Dean asked, flabbergasted. "You're studying abroad?"

"What? No, the University of Kansas," Adam said, sinking down onto John's chair. Dean felt slightly bad for the comment, so he turned his attention back to the TV.

A good half-an-hour had passed before Dean decided to speak again, even though Adam looked like he was into the movie. "I was thinking of…I don't know, maybe getting you a car for graduation," Dean mumbled, staring at Adam to read his expression.

"Isn't that sort of thing usually a surprise, Dean?" Adam said, quirking an eyebrow, but Dean couldn't miss the hint of a smile on his lips.

Dean sat up on the couch, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his thighs. "Well, you could act surprised in front of dad, not that it really matters." Dean smiled at Adam's complete grin. "Maybe we could go check out a few car lots over the week, see if you like anything."

"Dean, why are you doing this?" Adam said, his voice quiet, but not any less bewildered.

"Doing what, offering to buy you a car? Adam, you're my brother. I want to give you things. Dad, too. I want you to have nice things. I can offer those nice things, so take them, please."

Adam stared at Dean with narrowed suspicious eyes, as if measuring how honest Dean's words were. And hell, Dean was as earnest as he hardly ever was.

"Okay," Adam said finally. "We can go look at the cars, if you really insist." He grinned again, this time trying to chew it away. "It's not like I enjoy getting driven around everywhere by dad."

"Yeah, I remember going through that myself," Dean confessed. "Trust me, though, it gets better."

"Dean, I'm not gay, don't give me that speech."

Dean laughed, and Adam joined in seconds later.

It wasn't as if Dean was buying Adam's affection, really. Dean was only trying to make Adam's life easier.

After much insistence, Dean convinced Adam to let him drive him to baseball practice the following day, since it was on the way to the lake. Adam tried to fight him, making ridiculous excuses about how his team would tease him endlessly when they saw the car he was riding in. Dean couldn't understand why that scenario would ever happen. His Prius was a silver goddess.

"Just drop me off here," Adam muttered, his hand reaching for the door handle.

"We can't even see the field from here."

"Exactly, so stop the car," Adam said, gritting through his teeth. Dean hit the brakes suddenly.

"Adam, no one is going to tell you anything," Dean said calmly.

Adam glared at Dean, and Dean noticed his clenched fists. When his little brother was pissed, so was the rest of his body.

"You don't know a single thing about my life anymore, Dean," Adam muttered. "Not one thing. You don't call, you don't visit. Dad won't take me to visit either. Most of the time, I try to pretend I don't have a brother. So don't come here telling me how people will react to this pricey, pretentious piece of crap." Adam snorted before exiting and slamming the door shut.

Dean flinched at both Adam's words and the sound of the door clashing against the frame. But he still had vacation time left to fix this with Adam. He would fix his relationship with Adam, if it were the last thing he ever did.

Dean watched Adam walk furiously through the streets, and Dean continued driving toward the lake.

It was a nice day for fishing. He didn't want to think about much today, not more than he was forced to. Dean wanted to sit down and enjoy the silence surrounding him, the breeze in the air, the smell of the water.

Once he got there, he got everything set up, and he sat on his chair, with his fishing rod at hand. Trapping a few earthworms for bait, he threw the string down into the water, and waited. Just waited patiently for a stupid little fish to bite.

Dean was precise is choosing a desolated space, not that there were many of those on a fine Sunday morning, but he could always find peace and quiet if he searched for it.

Dean wasn't sure whether it was the thought of fishing or simply curiosity that made his mind wander over to Castiel. He remembered Cas' promise to learn for themselves whether they could teach poetry to a fish. Dean liked the idea of believing in that improbable possibility. If monsters were real, then why couldn't fish be capable of learning a good English poem?

Cas had come into Dean's life unannounced and unwelcomed, but he left it as quickly as he entered it. And it wasn't like Dean missed the guy, he hardly even knew him. If he should be missing someone, it should be Sam. But Dean thought of Castiel, and he liked the idea of learning more from him. If there was really a world outside of the one he was accustomed to, then he wanted to learn about it.

Except, Dean couldn't find the guts to ask this of Cas the last time he saw him. He also knew that the chances of stumbling upon Cas ever again were very slim, and that meant Cas had taken all his knowledge away from him.

Dean sighed, feeling slightly too similar to Sam. In a normal situation, Sam would have Dean's thought process. And he had, until he went into a temporary paralysis. Dean couldn't blame Sam for not wanting anything to do with that world. But Dean didn't share the same feeling. Despite having been in a dangerous situation not too long ago, Dean wanted to learn and see more. It wasn't masochism, it was curiosity.

Dean caught a fish. He stared at it for a while, wondering how absurd a grown man like him (particularly him) would look trying to teach poetry to it. He rolled his eyes instead and placed the fish into a cooler. Dean considered that maybe the first step in teaching poetry to a fish was not having plans of eating him for dinner.

Since it was getting late, and Dean was getting hungry, he decided to leave with his single fish.

Dean drove home, feeling less tense about returning to the ex-burned house. Adam wouldn't let him pick him up, not even before their little argument, so Dean didn't bother to get him.

John wasn't home, and Dean figured he was happily stationed at his favorite bar. Dean would pretend John's drinking issue wasn't an issue, as long as John never caused Adam any problems. Dean knew why his dad was so eager to drown his pain with alcohol. Nothing had been the same since Mary's death for anyone of them.

Dean left his worries behind, concentrating on frying his fish. He couldn't help feel a little sorry for killing a fish without even attempting to teach him a line of poetry, but his stomach growled and he had to eat.

Having dinner in Dean's childhood home was similar as having dinner at his own place. He set the table for one, spread a napkin on his lap, and poured himself a glass of water. Nothing really changed by being back home. His family didn't really miss him, after all. They all had their own Winchester ways, and there was no way of changing any of that.

Dean cleaned up the plates after his dinner for one and picked out one of the books he'd packed in the trunk of his Prius. He was sticking to the classics, reading A Separate Peace.

For a moment, it was as if nothing else existed for Dean. Not his job, or his deteriorated relationship, or his drunken dad, or his little brother who had more resentment than Dean had ever imagined a person could have. No, in this moment, Dean was experiencing a separate peace of his own.

And it all came to shreds after sunset, when he heard John's roaring truck pull up into the driveway. Dean peeked through the window, making sure his dad wasn't drunk enough to collapse flat on the ground. Fortunately, John seemed no more than a little tipsy as he let himself into his house.

"Hey-o, Dean-o!" John said cheerily.

Dean closed his book, knowing he was done reading for the rest of the night. "Hi, dad."

"I almost forgot you were gonna be here when I opened the door," John mumbled, coming to sit at his usual chair. Dean sat up on the couch, rigidly.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised," Dean said, scratching the back of his head. "Hey, what time's baseball practice supposed to end? Adam didn't tell me he had plans after that."

"Where's Adam?" John said, furrowing his eyebrows accusingly. "What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything, dad. I dropped him off at baseball practice this morning. I haven't seen him since."

"Have you called his phone?" John asked, sounding worried, which Dean didn't immediately understand.

"No, I didn't think of it," Dean said, feeling a strange knot in his stomach. He should have taken notice of Adam's absence sooner. If John was worried, then it wasn't for nothing. Dean dialed Adam's phone, the number he hardly ever called before, but it went straight to voicemail. But that usually happened to Dean.

"Well?" John said. His eyes, although slightly intoxicated, were wide and alert.

"Got the machine. Should we really be concerned? We could call his friends."

"What friends? The boy spends most of his time with the computer geek next door to us. She don't ever leave her room. If he's not there, then I don't know where the hell he is."

"Let's go ask," Dean suggested, already getting to the door with John following close behind. John stepped in front of Dean and hurried to the path leading onto the next door neighbor's front yard. He knocked desperately on the door, while Dean waited anxiously for anyone to open up.

"Mr. Winchester?" a pretty red-headed girl said, standing in the doorframe. Her eyes trailed up to Dean's, and he tried to smile politely.

"Is Adam with you?" John asked, clenching his hands into fists. "Have you heard from him today?"

"No, no I haven't," she said, perplexed. "Why? Is he alright?"

John grunted and walked away without offering an explanation.

"Sorry," Dean said quickly, observing his dad's actions as he opened up the garage door. "I'm Dean, Adam's brother." Dean turned to the girl and extended his hand, which she immediately shook. "Listen, if you hear from Adam, don't hesitate to let us know."

"Sure. Yeah," she said, understandingly. "And I'm Charlie."

Dean nodded, following John's trail into the garage. John was digging through piles of junk, until he pulled out a flashlight and a hunting rifle, which Dean hadn't seen since he was fourteen. John placed everything on the bed of the truck and hoped in the driver's side. Dean hurried to shut and lock the house before running back to the truck now moving in reverse and getting in the passenger seat.

"Dad, what the hell?"

John drove swiftly on the dark road, looking pissed off for a reason Dean wouldn't mind knowing.

"A couple kids from school, Dick and Uriel, they've been giving Adam hell for some time," John muttered, running over a stop sign. "I always tell that boy, you gotta stand up to people, son. You gotta show them they don't have power over you."

"So, what, you think these kids are responsible for Adam staying out late?"

John spat out through the window. "Adam's a good kid. He wouldn't go off somewhere else without telling me. This happened before."

"What?" Dean said, his throat was suddenly dry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Dean, this isn't about you, dammit!"

Dean nodded, staring out through the windshield at the cars John kept passing. "Are you planning on shooting anybody with that gun?"

John didn't respond for a long time, which honestly worried the crap out of Dean. "It's a fear tactic. Makes them talk."

"What did they do to Adam before?"

"Oh, they…" John started, trailing off into thought. "There are some cruel people in this world, Dean."

Dean didn't want to think about the horrors Adam had gone through while he remained oblivious. But the thought of Adam being in possible danger at the moment only produced the worst case scenarios in Dean's mind.

"Did you do anything about it?" Dean asked, feeling cold and frozen all over his body.

"Your brother is a tough guy, believe it or not. He was taken off guard at the time. He, uh, he did what he had to to get even."

Dean couldn't help but feel guilty. All this time living away from home was spent worrying over meeting his job goals and squeezing some time for Sam. He never once worried that maybe his brother was going through some trouble, or that his dad had to drink alone at bars. He'd been so caught up with work that his occasional phone call to his family told him nothing about his family.

John said nothing else the remaining trip, but Dean didn't need to hear the words out loud.

The first stop seemed to be the baseball field. The big white lamps were on and bright as always, but it was completely empty. Not a single soul remained, and yet, John pulled up and headed to the field anyway. Dean got out, too, but he walked around the outside of the fence with the flashlight at hand.

"ADAM!" John shouted across the field, loud enough to echo all the way to Dean. "ADAM!"

Dean walked along the sidewalk, to the direction of the house. Adam wanted to walk home, and there were only two ways back home. One of them would be the long way, through the transited main streets, or through the legacy park across the street. The park was a safe place during the day, filled with bikers and families going out for picnics. But at night, there was no telling how many dangerous animals roamed around. Dean had seen rattle snakes and bobcats at daylight, so he'd been able to evade them.

If anything had gone wrong while Adam was walking home, whether it'd be that he got attacked or lost or hurt, Dean would blame himself. He had to find Adam, and he had to find him safe.

As Dean made his way into the park with no more than two people around, he received a phone call from John.

"Did you find him?" Dean asked.

"No," John said, his voice cracking as he said, "Dean, I'm going to drive around and keep looking for him. If you find anything, anything at all, call me."

"Of course." Dean hung up, feeling a deep pressure in his chest. It was all this weight and responsibility sinking in. He had to find Adam.

Dean followed the miles-long trail that would eventually get to a second trail into a set of apartments that were a block away from the house. Dean found it hard to believe that this was a shortcut, but he'd traveled through here before, and if he walked fast enough, he would make it out in less than ten minutes.

He walked down the bike trail, lighting his path as we went, but the darkness of the woods around him made it nearly impossible to distinguish anything more. Dean reached the second trail, turned and immediately noticed the silhouette of a person standing in the middle of the thinnest trail he could walk through.

"Hello?" Dean said, walking closer. The person didn't move or respond, and now that Dean was closer he noticed that it was nothing but a statue. Dean breathed, relieved for the first time in the night. "You scared me, you oddly misplaced museum figure." Dean rested one of his hands on the statue's shoulder, and then lighted up its face with his flashlight.

It took Dean a closer look to lose his breath, drop his jaw, and scream at the top of his breathless lungs. With the yellow light emitting from his flashlight, he scanned the supposed statue from head to toe. He was an exact replica. He wore the same pair of jeans and t-shirt from the morning, except they were now cemented. Not just the clothes, but all of him. His hair, his face, his arms, legs, feet. It was him. It was Adam. A cold, paralyzed, cemented Adam.

It was Dean's baby brother.


	3. The Lead

Before Dean was possessed and met Castiel, he didn't know anything outside of normalcy. I mean, sure, he'd frequently stumble upon a freak or two, but certainly never a true monster. Dean didn't know much about the supernatural world Cas was so used to. He didn't know what to do if he were to ever encounter another vampire. Dean didn't know how many different monsters really existed, or what sort of monstrous things they could do.

But in that moment, as he stared into the gray circular outline of Adam's dead eyes, he knew he would find it. And then kill it mercilessly.

Maybe Dean wasn't very educated in Castiel's field, but he knew that no person was capable of doing this to a kid. He knew, he just knew.

But he couldn't…he had to tell his dad. He couldn't.

Dean fell on his knees to the ground, at the feet of the statue. He glanced up at it, feeling as defeated as ever, and focused on the pained look on Adam's face. The way his mouth spread wide open, as if trying to scream, but never achieving to get a sound out. And it crushed Dean. His mind tried to imagine Adam's suffering. It was like someone had used Dean's gut as a punching bag, now he couldn't breathe at all. He gasped for air, but nothing went in. Rather, his sobs escaped from his lips, and he slammed his hands to the ground, hitting it with all his strength.

All the memories he had of Adam slowly came back, and he wanted to yell until his throat exploded. He wanted to fix this unknown disaster, but yelling wouldn't solve anything.

Finally, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed John, wiping at his wet face with the back of his hands.

"Dean?"

"I'm at the legacy park," Dean said, in a monotone voice he hardly recognized. "Please come."

"You found him?" John asked, hopefully.

"Dad," Dean muttered, biting his lower lips so hard he tasted blood. "Just come. I'm in the trail, by the apartments."

Dean waited there with his brother, unsure if moving him would worsen the matter. He sat beside him, resting his head on his legs. Slowly, he was fading away into a blank page. He was evaporating into nothingness.

"Dean?" John called, his flashlight illuminating the ground on the first trail.

"Over here," Dean called back. He shut his eyes and he could still feel the light hitting him.

"Dean?" John repeated, this time his voice was significantly smaller.

"Dad," Dean said, opening his eyes and staring up at John, who stared blankly at the statue before him.

"What is this? What's going on, Dean? Where's…where's your brother?" John continued to stare at the statue that resembled Adam to the tiniest detail.

"I think this is him," Dean mumbled, but he didn't think John heard.

John backed away, back onto the main trail. He was shaking his head stubbornly, but his eyes remained glued to the lifeless statue. "Dean, we, this, he's. Let's go. We…we need to find your brother."

"Dad," Dean said, and he hated the fact that his lower lip was quivering. If someone had to be strong here it was him. His dad had been through enough with the loss of Mary.

"NO!" John shouted. His raging pale eyes turned to Dean now. "I don't know what kinda sick game this is, but I know that's not my son. Let's go."

"We can't just leave him—"

"Dean, that's not him," John snapped, his glare returned to the statue again. "That's not Adam."

"Dad," Dean whispered, almost inaudibly. But John gave a full turn and walked away, leaving both Dean and Adam alone.

Seeing his dad this way forced Dean to focus on finding his solution. He had to ask for help, and as much as he wanted to call Sam right now, he knew he had to contact Castiel first.

Cas picked up after the second ring.

"Dean?"

"I never told you," Dean said, inhaling a forceful breath. "I never tell anyone, really, that I have a brother. His name's Adam. He's eighteen years old. He plays baseball. Smart kid, too. He—Cas, he's, he turned into a rock."

"Come again?"

Dean gulped, running a hand through his hair in desperation. "Cas, I found him in the middle of this park, and he's a statue. He's a statue, but he's identical to my brother. And he's—Cas, he's not breathing. Please, please, tell me you know how to fix this."

"Dean," Cas said, but Dean didn't miss the shock in his voice. He was supposed to be experienced in these cases. "Where are you?"

"I'm still in Lawrence. I came to see my dad and my brother, but I don't know what the hell's happening anymore."

"Okay, listen to me, Dean. Give me your address, and I will be there in no time. I'm still in Lawrence myself."

"You'll help me?"

"I will do everything in my power, Dean."

"Okay."

"Just hang in there, okay?"

Dean snorted, drying his face again. He gave Cas his address and Cas said he was on his way. This didn't solve Dean's anguish, but it certainly diminished it.

John sat on a bench at the park, still as Adam, but still alive. Dean sat beside him, staring ahead at absolutely nothing. Dean wouldn't focus on his dad's face, but he could have sworn he'd been crying.

"Dad," Dean said, clearing his raspy throat. "My friend's on his way over. He's sort of an expert on stuff like this. We may have a chance to fix Adam."

"He's not Adam," John snapped.

Dean flinched, but remained his staring contest with the wind. "Then do this for me. Help me get…whatever that is, back home."

"Adam's lost," John muttered. "Could be anywhere."

"Dad, please," Dean said, chokingly. He glanced at John, but his dad was far away. "I need you. You're…you're my daddy. I can't do this without you."

John returned to Dean, staring back at Dean's watery eyes. John narrowed his eyes with the same blank expression on his face.

"He's not Adam," John repeated.

Dean covered his face with his hands, feeling entirely defeated. He couldn't accomplish anything. He couldn't even get his dad on his side.

Just as he was considering taking off in his dad's truck, his phone rang. Dean answered, knowing it was Castiel.

"I'm not home yet," Dean said before Cas could ask. "I can't do anything right, Castiel. I have to get Adam out of here, but I can't do it alone."

"Where can I find you?" Cas asked.

Dean told him how to get to the park, and Cas showed up quicker than Dean expected. Dean looked up at him, and part of him was expecting Cas to fix the entire problem with the snap of his fingers.

Cas stood there in front of Dean as Dean crumbled to pieces, and he knelt down in front of Dean. He looked intently into Dean's eyes, placing a hand gently on Dean's knee.

"Dean, where is your brother?" Cas asked softly.

Dean glanced over at John, who was now furrowing his eyebrows. Dean could tell John wanted to protest and argue that the statue wasn't Adam, but John said nothing more.

"I'll show you," Dean said, getting up and heading back into the deep trail. It wasn't such a long walk, but it was a dreadful one.

Before Dean turned onto the second trail, Cas placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, and Dean turned to him, on the verge of another sob. Cas squeezed his shoulder, and then entered the trail on his own. Dean followed him reluctantly.

"What do you think did this to him?" Dean asked, lighting up the statue for Cas to take a better look.

Cas examined the statue closely, running his fingertips over the edges, as if testing out the rock-like texture.

"Michael and Gabriel are on their way," Cas said, which was not what Dean had asked him.

"Will I be able to get Adam back to normal?"

Cas took a breath, turning to Dean. "I don't know what to tell you, Dean. I've never seen anything like this before." Cas walked closer to Dean, so close that Dean had to lower down his flashlight for Cas to fit. "I don't want to lie to you, as much as I want to help, but I don't think Adam has a chance."

"You said—"

"I said I would do everything in my power," Cas interrupted, then he signaled back to Adam. "But your brother is dead, and there's nothing I can do to bring him back."

Dean clenched his right fist and without a hesitation, punched Castiel in the face. Honestly, Dean's knuckles fucking hurt, but the look on Castiel with the blood dripping from his nostrils and lips somehow eased Dean's pain.

"What the fuck?" Cas hissed, covering up his face with his hands. The glare in Castiel's eyes made Dean smile for a second.

Dean placed his numbing hand on the uninjured one, trying to restore its strength. "I trusted you, Cas."

"I'm not all-powerful, Dean," Cas snapped. "Excuse me for not having magical healing powers to revive your brother."

"Fuck you," Dean spat out.

"I want to take my son back to his home," John suddenly said, and Dean realized he was standing behind him.

Dean stepped aside, as John walked up to Adam's statue. John moved behind it and tilted Adam backwards, holding onto his frozen shoulders.

"A little help here," John mumbled. Dean and Cas both rushed to either side of Adam, and Cas lifted up his feet from the ground, while Dean took hold of the middle.

The three of them managed to place Adam into the bed of the truck. John rode next to Adam, holding him in place so he wouldn't slide off and break…literally. It was pretty awkward, but Cas insisted on following Dean to his home. It appeared Cas wasn't one to get his feelings hurt so easily.

Parked across the street was an old green Jeep, and waiting inside were Michael and Gabriel. Dean parked the truck back in his father's driveway and immediately rushed to the back to help John carry Adam out. By now, the streets were quiet, the night was at its darkest hour, and the only lights available were the ones left on by the few houses on the block.

Cas helped with Adam's feet once again as soon as he parked and got out of his car. He nodded at Michael and Gabriel and the two opened up the garage in order for them to put Adam in.

Dean thought it was stupid to stuff Adam away into the garage, but John claimed that's what he wanted, and there was no way of arguing against him.

"Dean? Mr. Winchester?"

Dean turned to the house next door, and even in the darkness he distinguished the girl he'd met earlier. It was Charlie, and she was closing in on them.

"What is that?" she asked quietly. Dean could see her clearer now under their porch light and she was staring at the statue in John's garage. "Where's Adam?"

"You should go home, Charlie," Dean urged, just as John shut the garage door and went into the house.

"What's going on?" she asked, but somehow she didn't seem unsure of the answer.

"Go home," Dean repeated patiently. "It's late. I'll explain everything tomorrow." Though, Dean knew he wouldn't. Dean didn't know exactly which step he'd take next, but he knew he wouldn't be here tomorrow morning.

"But, Dean—" Charlie said, her head shaking a little.

"Are you deaf?" Michael snapped. Dean hadn't noticed he was beside him. "He's telling you to get the hell away from here."

"You don't have to yell," Dean said through his teeth. He didn't know either Charlie or Michael well, but he knew whose side he was on.

Charlie shut her mouth, slowly backing away. She whispered a simple "Okay," and then she went back into her house.

Dean didn't bother to glance back at anyone else as he went to his house, too. John was in his chair, silent and still. He was so close to looking like Adam.

Dean gulped, trying hard not to think of Adam, just focusing on what was next. He had to keep moving forward. He had to get his revenge.

Michael, Gabriel and Castiel all let themselves in, and Cas, who was the last one to enter, shut the door behind him. The three of them stood in the living room, looking from Dean to John. Finally, Michael sat on the sofa with Dean.

"What kind of monster would do something like this?" Dean asked, hiding his face in his hands.

"We are not sure," Michael said.

Dean uncovered his face just so Michael would see the look on his face. Michael didn't seem to care, though, which sort of pissed Dean off even more.

"I don't know if you're interested, pretty boy," Gabriel said, surprisingly. Dean gave him the same bitchface he'd given Michael before. "Hey, easy, I'm just pitching in my two cents. I have a theory, but neither of these bastards want to believe it."

"What theory?" Dean asked bitterly.

Gabriel grinned, and there was just something about him Dean couldn't stand. He didn't know if it was the fact that he was halfway through a smarties roll or if it was that smug look in his face.

"Ever heard of the powerful Gorgons sisters from ancient Greek mythology?" Gabriel said, popping more smarties into his mouth. Dean stared blankly at Gabriel, until he continued, "Well, these bitches are known for turning people into stone, aren't they? As far as I'm concerned, no other supernatural creature has been gifted with those abilities. And yet, I am being doubted." Gabriel chuckled to himself as he finished his candy. "Dean, you should know, my brothers are complete idiots."

"Is there a single possibility that what he's saying could be true?" Dean asked, to no one in particular, though his head was facing Castiel.

Castiel, whose blood had been cleared, leaned against the wall behind him, folding his arms and frowning. "Michael?"

Michael was staring intently at the floor, as if something would just crawl out of it any moment. Dean hated to admit that this would no longer surprise him.

"They're only myths," Michael said at last, still staring at the floor, maybe at the patterns of the tiles.

"Everything we hunt are myths, dumbass," Gabriel said, opening up a bag of m&m's. "I personally don't think you have enough imagination, Mickey." Michael scowled at Gabriel.

"Well, whatever this shit is," Dean said, clearing his throat, "I've got to find it and kill it."

"That's absurd," Michael said, looking up to share a small laugh with Gabriel, as if Dean had just told a joke.

"That's it." Dean got up, walked to the door and opened it. "All three of you. Out. Now."

"We're trying to help, Dean," Cas said, breaking his muted strike with him.

"I don't need it anymore," Dean said, staring at the sidewalk outside. "I can take care of this on my own."

"If you insist," Michael said, walking out the door.

Gabriel followed close behind, but he stopped at the door, turning to Dean. "Hunting the supernatural is kind of our full-time occupation, pretty boy. You sure you don't—"

"Positive," Dean cut him off, raising his hand. Gabriel also left.

Castiel was still standing against the wall, and now he was the one staring at the floor for answers.

"Look, Castiel," Dean started, taking a deep, weary breath. "I know I still owe you my life, but you said so yourself, you can't bring Adam back. I know what I have to do, and I can take care of it myself. I don't want you wasting your time on this, anyway."

Castiel said nothing, nor did he move an inch. John was in the same posture. Dean was growing insane by seeing people acting like statues. He wanted to slap both of them, but he contained his anger and shut the door instead.

"Adam might be gone forever," Dean said, resting his hands on the top of the couch. "But I'm going to do something about his death."

"It was real," John muttered, almost inaudibly. "It was all true."

"What are you talking about, dad?" Dean knelt at John's side, and leaned closer so he could hear clearer.

"Mary," John mumbled, looking directly into Dean's eyes. "Bobby. It was all true."

"What? Dad, what was true?" Dean turned to Cas for help again.

"Give him some time, Dean," Cas said, heading somewhere else in the house.

"Dad?" Dean asked again, and John blinked rapidly, as if waking up from a hypnotism.

"Dean," John said, speaking the name with near devotion. "I've seen your mother here, in the house. Months after she died. I…I thought I was crazy."

Castiel returned with two glasses of water, one which he handed to John and the other to Dean. He then took a seat on the couch behind Dean.

John drank from his water, but Dean ignored his glass. "Mary showed up in our bedroom," John continued, seeming embarrassed at his confession. "She wore the same nightgown she wore the last night I saw her. She talked to me, Dean. Told me I was doing a good job with our boys."

Dean grinned, although John didn't seem to enjoy it.

"Do you remember your Uncle Bobby, Dean?" John asked.

Dean nodded, his mind flashing to Bobby's old auto-salvage junkyard. He used to run around the scary-looking cars as a child, pretending he was being chased by mobsters. He'd been an odd little boy.

"He visited us the year after the incident, when the house was almost done with the reconstruction. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah," Dean said shortly. He didn't like thinking of that time. He was a mess. Everything was a mess. He was sure he'd been an ass to Bobby during that visit.

"Well, Bobby had asked me about Mary, wondering if I'd seen anything out of the norm. I told him no, of course. But he kept bugging me about it, pushing on the subject, until one day he just told me everything. About the ghosts, the demons, the monsters. I couldn't believe a word coming out of his mouth. But he promised me he would put Mary to rest, and I didn't know what he was talking about. After he left, I never saw Mary again."

"Dad…"

John took a tight grip of Dean's hand. "I can't go after this thing, Dean, whatever it is. I don't feel capable."

"I know, dad. I'm not asking you to come with me. I'm doing this alone."

"Dean, no," Cas interrupted. "I'm coming with you. I'm the one with experience here. You're not ready."

Dean rolled his eyes, rising up. "Be ready in ten." He went into his bedroom.

With Dean's suitcase packed up again, he returned to the living room, but it was empty now. He heard voices coming from outside, and saw that John and Cas were talking near the garage. John looked at least more like a human than before.

Dean walked outside, clicking his control to unlock his Prius. "Let's go."

"No," Cas said firmly. Dean turned around immediately, with a raised eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

Cas folded his arms and pressed his lips together into a thin line. "You are coming with me, Dean. We're taking my Impala."

Dean walked closer to Cas, raising both his eyebrows now. "When exactly did we decide this?"

"There's no point in debating this, Dean. My car is packed with weapons we'll need."

"What am I supposed to do with my Prius?" Dean asked, glancing at John.

"If you want," John said slowly, almost unwillingly. "I can make room for it in the garage."

Dean instantly thought of Adam, hidden behind the brown garage door and shivered slightly. He tossed the keys to his dad, sighing. "Just watch out for her, alright?"

"Yeah," John said, stuffing the keys into his front jean's pocket.

"There's no space in the trunk for your things," Cas said, hopping behind the wheel of the old Impala. "Throw 'em in the backseat. We'll make room for everything tomorrow."

Dean grumbled all the way to the passenger seat. Dean did as Cas said, and then watched as John shrank with the more distance he put away from home.

It was until Dean and Cas were on the road that Dean realized they had no lead to follow. Castiel didn't seem to realize this because he kept driving; only Dean didn't know where.

Dean decided he didn't care for now.

"Dude, don't you own any cassettes for this vintage thing?" Dean said, opening up the glove compartment.

"Under the seat," Cas said, keeping his eyes on the road.

Dean's hands dug under his seat, and surely enough, he found a box filled with cassettes. It consisted mostly of classic rock, but there were one or two Fleetwood Mac cassettes, and when Dean kept searching, he found an NSYNC cassette.

"Seriously?" Dean said.

Cas glanced at it and looked back to the road, smirking. "What? It's music."

"If that's what you want to call it." Dean said, inserting a Ramones cassette.

"Are you more of a Backstreet Boys man?" Cas asked, looking even more amused.

Dean grimaced, thinking back to the time he got a haircut based off of Nick Carter's hairstyle. The song "Beat on the Brat" played on the cassette and Dean concentrated on the music.

"I wasn't really a boy-band fanatic," Cas said after a beat of silence. "I just don't see why music genres should matter at all. Music is nothing more than a type of noise, a beautiful one, I'll admit. I don't have many preferences. Life's too short for that, and who knows what the hell's waiting for me in the afterlife."

"You think about that a lot?"

Cas shrugged. "We're surrounded by death. What else should I think of?"

"You're a real bummer, you know that?"

Cas didn't say anything else, and that's when Dean noticed the familiar road they were traveling on. It was the same one from the vampire hunt. Cas parked on the side of the road this time, getting out of the car without explanation. Dean got out, too, following Cas to where he opened the trunk.

What Dean found inside that trunk was like nothing he'd ever seen before. The first items Dean noticed were the guns. There were at least ten of them, all packed tightly and securely, or so he expected. There were a few large silver knives. There was a machete, which Dean assumed was the same one Cas used to save his life. A shovel, which Cas used to knock Dean out. There were two milk gallons, one with clear liquid like water and the other with red liquid that looked like blood. Dean spotted a Bible in the midst of the mess, and beside it, loads of fake IDs with Castiel's picture on them. Dean knew they were fake because otherwise, that'd make Cas an FBI agent, US Marshal, and a Homeland Security employee, amongst others. They looked real, though, even the Bikini Inspector one.

"And you wanted us to take your car," Cas said, grabbing two of the biggest guns. Dean felt a little ashamed at not even knowing what type of guns they were, but he didn't lie when he said he didn't know how to use them. And just like that, one of the guns was handed to him.

"Thanks?" Dean said slowly. He wondered if there were still any vampires left they'd have to hunt down, but in that case, they should have pulled out the machete. Cas shut the trunk and walked into the woods.

Dean hated having to follow close behind, but in his defense, it was fucking dark and they had no flashlights. And previously, he'd been nearly attacked by a monster in the area.

"What the hell are we doing here, man?" Dean asked, walking right beside Cas. Dean tried to imitate Castiel in the way he held the gun on his side, trying not to look stupid.

"I'm going to teach you how to shoot," Cas said, turning to Dean with a smile. Dean could hardly tell whether he was about to run over a tree, but he could see the white of Cas' teeth even in the darkness. "You want to hunt down something that can turn you into stone, but you can't even shoot. I'm not going on a suicide mission, Dean."

"You don't have to go at all," Dean said. Even though, maybe he did sort of need Cas' expertise.

"Dean," Cas said, coming to a stop and standing right in front of him. "I get that you want to be a hero, to get payback for your brother's death. It's what we usually do, how we get into this crap. But don't think we're going to find this monster magically and kill it the same way. We don't even know what we're up against, and I'm tired."

"I'm not going back home," Dean said quickly. If being back in the house where his mother burned away was hard, then he couldn't imagine what it would be like staying there with Adam-the-statue. "I don't think I could sleep right now."

"No, I know you wouldn't want that. But since I'm driving, and I'm beat, I will need to rest. I'll get us a hotel room after we're done here. Tomorrow, I'll go to the library and do some research. If I still don't find anything, I'll find another way. I made you a promise, Dean, and I won't break it."

Dean was hit with the revelation that Castiel really was a good guy. He felt guilty about his behavior earlier, but Dean wasn't used to apologies.

"About that punch," Dean said, shifting on his legs. "I didn't mean it. I lost my temper."

Cas gave him a short nod. "No hard feelings."

"And about getting a motel room," Dean said, hesitantly. "We could just wait things out at my place. You know, since it'd be more comfortable."

Cas shrugged. "Okay, sure."

"I have a guest bedroom," Dean added.

"You don't have to convince me, Dean." Cas smiled.

Dean didn't look too much like an idiot as Cas taught him how the safety worked on the gun. Dean was proud to admit he was a quick learner, and perhaps Cas wasn't the worst teacher. Cas had Dean shooting at empty beer cans placed twenty feet away from him, and then they were moved further away. Dean missed a few of them, but he blamed it on the lack of light.

Once they were done with the shooting lessons, and Cas couldn't stop yawning, they got back in the car, and Cas turned on the ignition. Cas looked seriously exhausted, that Dean wondered if maybe he'd had a worse day than Dean had.

The clock on Dean's phone read that it was 3:22am, but Dean still felt wide awake.

"You want me to drive?" Dean offered.

Cas stared at Dean. "My car?"

"Yeah," Dean said. What else?

"No."

"Why not?"

"She's mine."

Dean chuckled. "I'm not going to steal her, Cas. Come on."

"She doesn't like strangers," Cas said, stepping on the gas as another Ramones classic came on.

"I get it, though," Dean said after a while. "She's your baby."

Cas laughed at that. "I like that. Baby. It suits her."

Dean grinned at Cas, but Cas wasn't looking. Half an hour later, they arrived back at Dean's apartment building. Dean was glad to be back home, back where he had control over his life.

Cas handed Dean his bags from the car, pulling out a single duffle bag from the trunk (which somehow fit in between the mess).

Once Dean went inside his home again, he felt slightly calmer. Last time he was here, he still had a brother. His biggest problem was keeping Sam happy.

Dean showed Cas to his guest bedroom, despite the fact that Cas kept insisting the couch was more than enough for him.

"You're taking this room or so help me I will punch you again," Dean threatened him with a friendly grin.

"I was taken by surprise," Cas mumbled, dropping his bag on the carpet and jumping belly-down on the bed. "Night!"

Dean shut the door and headed into his room. It would be a very long night for him.

Cas walked into the living room with only a towel wrapped around his waist and shaggy wet hair. Dean placed his breakfast sandwich onto a second plate, wondering why the hell Cas hadn't gone straight to his room to get dressed.

"What are you making, Dean?" Cas asked, walking into the kitchen and coming to stand right beside Dean, peeking down at the plates on the counter.

"Cas," Dean said, trying to level his voice. "Personal space."

Cas looked confused, as if this had never been an issue in the past, but still, he took two steps back. Dean picked up a plate and offered it to Cas, looking anywhere but his tan, slim chest. From what Dean caught a glimpse of, Cas had a better shape than Dean, and that was unacceptable.

"Ooh, thanks. Looks good," Cas said, grabbing the plate and smiling brightly at Dean. Some water drops were sliding down from Cas' hair.

"It's uh, egg whites and turkey sausage on whole wheat," Dean said, taking his own plate and dropping down on a chair at the table.

Cas put his plate down on the table next to Dean and watched him curiously for a moment. Cas seemed hesitant on sitting down.

"What?" Dean said, unable to pretend he didn't notice.

"Did you tell Sam about Adam?" Cas wondered, tilting his head. "Does he know I'm here?"

"No," Dean sighed. "I was going to call him after breakfast. He's busy. I don't think he'll want to be bothered."

"I think you should tell Sam," Cas said, as the water drops kept rolling down his body. "I think he deserves to know what happened," he added later.

Dean rolled his eyes, abandoned his food, and called Sam.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam was banging desperately on the door, and Dean opened it, thankful that Cas was finally wearing clothes.

"Dean," Sam said, walking in. "Oh, Dean, I am so, so sorry." Sam looked at him with that sad puppy-dog look in his eyes.

Dean pulled him in his arms, and Sam hugged him back tightly. Dean hadn't realized how much he needed this.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked, pulling away.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "I have a mission now, something to focus on."

"Yeah, about that plan of yours," Sam said, walking to the table where Cas was still having breakfast. "What the hell are you two thinking?"

"It was his idea," Cas said, taking another bite of his sandwich.

Dean sighed. "Look, we don't even know what we're going after."

"EXACTLY!" Sam yelled. "You're going to get yourself killed in the process. I've never heard of anything more stupid."

"I don't care that you don't have any faith in me, Sam. I'm doing this. And if I get hurt or killed, then that's on me, not you."

"Do you hear yourself?" Sam snapped. "You can't be fucking serious."

"Sam," Dean said, quietly. "I don't want to argue anymore. We're not going to gain anything out of this." When Dean looked back to the table, Cas was gone.

Sam ran a hand over his long hair (which could use a haircut), and went over to Dean's bar to pour himself a whiskey. Dean checked his watch. It was barely ten in the morning.

"Hey don't you have work or something to get to?" Dean said, walking closer to Sam, who was gulping down his drink.

Sam put the empty glass down on the counter and dried his lips with the back of his hand. "I have to meet with Jessica Moore again. Her case is my priority at the moment. You got that? Not you, Dean. I'm going to just hand you away to Cas so you can both go kill yourselves. I don't give a fuck."

Dean noticed how Sam's hands were shaking on the counter, how his eyes were filling up with tears, and how his entire demeanor had changed. He was pulling himself entirely away from Dean.

"Sam," Dean murmured, but he shut his mouth. What else could he say? He was certainly not going back on his hunt, not when it was the only thing he could do for Adam.

"I should go," Sam said, straightening up, sniffling. He regarded Dean with cool eyes this time, which held too many unsaid words, and leaned in for a soft caress of their lips. It was quick and quiet, and as soon as it was over, Sam was gone.

For the next couple of days, Dean and Cas were drawing blanks on their target. After all their research, it all came down to two possibilities. 1). A witch who put a spell on Adam for whatever reason. Dean thought this could somehow have a loophole, but Castiel told him not to get his hopes up. Witches were apparently bitches. 2). One of the three Gorgon sisters, like Gabriel had said. Except, they couldn't find a reason as to why they would be roaming the earth in this century.

Dean refused to ask Michael or Gabriel for help again, but he did ask Cas to pray to Anna so she could give them some insight.

"Cas, please?" Dean repeated. Cas wouldn't budge.

"She doesn't work for me, Dean," Cas said. "I shouldn't have used her just to make you believe I'm not some cold-blooded sociopath."

"But she's your friend, isn't she? Friends help each other out."

"She's probably with Michael right now," Cas mumbled, looking away.

"So, what?" Dean said, confused. He studied Castiel's reddened face, and it finally hit him. "Wait, do you like Anna? Does Anna like Michael? Wow, this is the cheapest love triangle I've ever heard of."

Cas gasped, looking disgusted. "No, you ass. But you're not completely wrong. Michael and Anna have a romantic relationship. It's great and all, but it's not allowed."

"Says who?"

"Heaven," Cas said. Cas shut his laptop, sitting back on the couch. Dean sat on his loveseat, trying to process the information.

"Does Heaven know about their romance?" Dean wondered, using the word mockingly. It wasn't Dean's favorite word.

"Oh, they know," Cas said, lying flat on his back. "They know, and that is the reason she's been kicked out. Anna is a fallen angel. No angel wants to be a fallen angel, except for Lucifer. She's constantly looking for ways to prove herself again to heaven, so that they take her back."

"Would they take her back if she leaves your brother?"

Cas turned to Dean, pensively. "I don't think she'd ever consider that."

"So, tell me what exactly the problem is with us asking Anna for help?"

"Michael and Anna hardly ever get to be alone together," Cas said.

"Guess it takes a lot for a hunter and an angel to hook up on a regular basis," Dean said, laughing.

"It's not funny, Dean."

Dean sighed. "Alright, whatever. When can we get a hold of Anna?"

"Not today," Cas said, getting up from the couch. "I'm going to cook us dinner."

Dean rolled his eyes, opening up his laptop again. "Nothing too greasy. Not that you'd find enough oil for that."

"You're going to eat whatever I make," Cas said, walking into the kitchen.

"Assbutt," Dean mumbled, a little surprised at his sudden nickname for Cas, but it made him smile.

When dinner was ready, Cas called Dean to the table. Dean put his laptop down reluctantly. He was so caught up on his research regarding ancient legends. He'd been reading about ghost sightings all around the country. Although he wasn't sure he believed most of the stories, he knew now they could be a major possibility, something he could fight off.

Which reminded Dean, as soon as he sat at the table, that John had confessed he'd seen Mary's ghost, and that Bobby had gotten rid of her. How the hell does someone get rid of a ghost? How does a ghost even come to be?

Cas had prepared what looked like grilled chicken, steamed vegetables and white rice. Dean had to admit it was better than his usual chef salad.

"You always make yourself at home, don't you?" Dean said, picking up his fork and digging in.

"It's not so difficult when you don't have one," Cas replied, cutting up his chicken.

Dean ate some of his food before asking Cas what was on his mind. "So, you heard what my dad said yesterday, about my mom's ghost?"

Cas nodded, chewing on his food. When he swallowed everything, he said, "I was wondering about that, but I didn't think you'd want to talk about it."

"I don't," Dean confessed. "Not really. But I'm curious about something."

"How did your mother die?"

Dean scowled at Cas. "That's the part I didn't want to talk about."

"Alright." Cas continue eating, not bothered.

"Anyway," Dean said slowly. He really wanted to know, so he tried to get his words out there. "How come my mom became a ghost? Do all people die and return as ghosts? Is Adam a ghost, too?"

Cas took a large drink from his water. "A person can decide whether they want to hang around amongst the living, unnoticed as a ghost. It usually occurs when the deceased suffers a surprise death, or they have unfinished business. Or simply because they don't want to leave. I can't tell you for sure if Adam decided to stay or not."

Dean looked down at his plate, still filled with most of his food. "And how do you make them leave?"

"Occasionally, we've had to dig up the body of the deceased and burn it. In cases where the body has been previously cremated, we find an item of theirs to which they've attached themselves to and burn that."

Dean remained silent for a while. He'd completely lost his appetite, thinking about his mother burning, and being burned again.

"She died in a house fire," Dean mumbled. "There was a candle left on in the room. It, uh, fell and you can guess what happened next."

"I'm sorry."

Dean got up from the table and went into his room. He didn't know what made him tell Cas about Mary, because he could have sworn that it was the last thing he wanted to do.

By the end of the week, Dean was feeling desperate. Cas had looked for possible witnesses at the park that might have seen what happened to Adam, but he'd found no one. Meanwhile, Dean was exploring their two possibilities, trying to find reasons as to why either of them would hurt Adam.

Dean was tired of searching around in circles, so he threw his laptop away from him on the couch and turned to Cas, who was eating a bag of marshmallows he'd gone out to buy earlier in the day.

"Didn't you tell me you worked out, Cas?"

"I do," Cas said with a smile. "I hunt."

"That's it?"

"It's not easy when you don't get to hide out behind a tree," Cas said.

"Well, it doesn't look extremely difficult either, to be honest."

Cas waved his comment away, biting on another marshmallow. He reminded Dean a lot of Gabriel, who was always munching on something sweet the times he'd seen him.

In that moment, Dean received a phone call. He answered, even though it was an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Dean? This is Charlie. I'm at your house. I know everything, and I want to help."

Cas was staring at Dean's bewildered expression.

"Slow down, okay?" Dean said. "What do you mean you know everything?"

"About Adam," Charlie said. "I kind of suspected something was off that night you guys brought the statue to the garage. I came over the next day looking for you, but Mr. Winchester wouldn't open the door. But I caught a glimpse of Adam when your dad moved a car inside it. Your dad finally told me the truth. I want to help."

Dean ran a hand over his face, staring at Cas. "Charlie, I appreciate your offer, but we're good. Keep an eye out for my dad, that's as much help as I need."

"No, Dean, you don't understand," she said, sounding frustrated. "I can help. I've done my research, and I found some interesting information."

"What did you find?"

"Well, a zoo in Nebraska was broken into yesterday night, and all of the snakes were let out of their cages. The tapes show a woman in a long black dress with her head covered up in sheets and she's wearing sunglasses. The weirdest thing is that these snakes followed her outside the zoo, who the hell knows where."

Dean shared a look with Cas, even though Cas hadn't heard what Charlie had just said. "So, what exactly are you saying? That we found our killer?"

"I'm saying that Medusa is my prime suspect."

"Medusa?" Dean said, and Castiel didn't look shocked. "I thought there were like three of those Greek gargoyles."

"Dean, do you know nothing?" Charlie said with exasperation. "Legend has it that Medusa is on the run. She's being chased by Perseus. The other two wouldn't even bother to step on this universe."

"Medusa has a bounty hunter?"

"Sort of. So, if you're still in Kansas, you're wasting time. This lady is travelling up north, and I suggest you do the same."

Dean wrote down the exact address of the zoo of the incident, and then thanked Charlie. She promised to stay on the lookout with the news around the country.

After Dean explained the conversation to Cas, he looked at him expectantly, waiting for his opinion.

"It's worth a shot," Cas said.

"I'll start packing," Dean said, already folding his clothes.


	4. The Roadhouse

Leaving Kansas lifted Dean's spirits, not by a lot, but it made a big difference. He wasn't much of a traveler. Dean had lived all of his life in Kansas. The only other place he'd ever been to was Texas, and that wasn't much of a road trip, but more of a sales trip to a hot-and-cold temperature zone.

Even though entering Nebraska on the passenger seat of an old Chevy Impala with a practical stranger in the hunt of Medusa wasn't on his bucket list, part of him enjoyed it. Part of him just wanted to get the hell away from home, from his dead brother and his drunken dad. But not from Sam. Despite their arguments, Dean couldn't stop thinking of Sam, of everything he'd put him through; of their friendship, and the way it escape through their fingers like water.

"Would you like to get a drink with me?" Cas asked as they sun began to set at the end of the road.

"Sure. Why not?" Dean could think of a few reasons why, but it was a rhetorical question after all.

"Great, because we're already headed to the Roadhouse," Cas said, smiling slyly.

"Oh, of course," Dean said. "Why don't we celebrate while we're at it?"

"Dean," Cas said seriously. "There's nothing wrong with having a few drinks while we're on the job. It'll loosen you up. Besides, we're visiting some old friends of mine."

The Roadhouse was actually called Harvelle's Roadhouse, and it was a small wooden cabin with motorbikes parked outsides, along with other rusty old cars like Castiel's baby. The place was in the middle of nowhere, and the only way of getting there was through a narrow dirt road.

"Hunter's gather here," Cas said nonchalantly.

"Guess I've joined the club," Dean said.

"Welcome." Cas smiled and got out of the car.

They went inside together, walking side by side. The place was packed. Everywhere Dean turned, there were happy drunken people dressed in thick dull-colored jackets and denim jeans. Dean looked down at his clothes, wishing he'd packed more jeans. His slacks were comfortable, but he definitely stood out in the crowd.

Cas headed for the counter, while Dean hung out back and got stared at.

"Hey, pretty," a hunky girl who looked like one of the guys said. Dean moved closer to Cas, bumping into a few more people.

"Two beers," Cas told the bartender. "And tell Ellen that Mr. Comatose wants to see her."

"Well if it isn't Castiel Novak," a man said coming up from behind Cas. Dean narrowed his eyes on his twenty-first-century mullet, and then dropped to his shirt that read "Dr. Badass."

"Ash!" Cas cheered when he turned, going straight for a halfway hug. "Damn, I've missed this place."

"Hey, who's this?" Ash asked, looking at Dean and bobbing his head to the background music.

Cas placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, and smiled brightly at Ash. "Dean, I'd like you to meet Ash." Cas patted Dean's shoulder before removing his hand. "Ash, this is Dean…"

"Winchester," Dean said, realizing he hadn't told Cas his last name all this time.

"Come here, my brother," Ash said, pulling Dean into an awkward hug. When he pulled away, Ash held onto Dean's arms, staring him up and down. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why are you dressed so handsome?"

Dean chuckled, feeling self-conscious about wearing his pea coat. "I'm not—"

"He needs a beer," Cas said, grabbing the two beers on the counter and handing Dean one of them.

Dean wasn't much of a drinker, but he downed half of his beer in one gulp. Cas watched him proudly before he drank from his own beer.

"I will get you two a booth table, come on," Ash said, and Dean and Cas followed after him through the tight room.

Ash led them to the only empty booth table at the furthest, darkest corner. As soon as they were both seated, Ash left.

"Who was that guy?" Dean wondered, taking a smaller sip from his beer this time.

"Mm, Ash is the master of technology." Cas leaned closer, looking secretively. "He's a bootlegger."

Dean chuckled. "You come here a lot?"

"I used to," Cas said, speaking over the noise. Although, in this particular corner, most background noises were somehow minimized. "When I was younger I used to spend most of my time in this place. I grew up around Ash, Jo and Ellen. This is where I had my first beer."

"Gee, Cas, how long have you been in the 'business'?" Dean asked, using air quotes.

Cas shrugged as he finished his beer. "I was fifteen when my dad passed." Cas looked down at the empty glass between his hands, laughing quietly. "But life's been the same now that I'm thirty-four."

Just as Dean was about to say something, a beautiful wavy-haired brunette stood beside their booth gaping at Cas.

"Boy, I don't know if I should slap you upside the head or throw you in my arms," she said, pulling a giggling Castiel up and out of the booth. "Oh hell, c'mere." She hugged Cas tightly, by the look of it, but Cas seemed more than content about it.

"How have you been, Ellen?" Cas said once they pulled away. "How's the business going?"

"Fine, fine, you know, the usual bar fights stir up every week or so, but ain't nothing I can't handle." She held Castiel's face in her hands very tenderly. "Of course you'd know that if you came by more often." She slapped him gently and then Cas sat back down.

She turned to Dean, placing both hands on her hips. "What's wrong with you, boy? Can't come up and greet an old woman? I'm just messing with you, I'm not old." She laughed and pulled Dean up to hug him the same way he hugged Cas. Dean had no idea what to do with his hands.

"I'm Ellen Harvelle, by the way," she told Dean. "Next round of beers is on the house."

"Dean Winchester." Dean grinned.

"I'll talk to you later, Castiel," Ellen told him in a serious tone, despite her constant smile. "Let me go find Jo. It's been a busy night, but she'll love to know you're here." Ellen turned to leave as Cas glanced around the room, as if searching for something.

"So, how long have you been avoiding this place?" Dean asked. Dean had never been received this way anywhere, not even home.

"About a year," Cas said mindlessly. "Aha!" Cas got up and walked away somewhere behind Dean.

Dean waited until someone brought them another round of beers to turn and search for Cas. He found him at another table, near the jukebox, but he wasn't alone. Cas was engaged in what looked like a hilarious conversation with a younger guy. Then Cas turned to Dean and caught him staring at him, but Dean looked away before the other guy could look, too.

Seconds later, Cas showed up back at the table with the guy close beside him. The guy had short dark hair and green eyes, almost to the same shade as Dean's.

"Dean, this is my friend Samandriel," Cas said, hanging an arm around his shoulders. "But I like to call him Alfie."

"Dean Winchester," Dean said yet again, this time with a sigh.

"Why don't you sit with us?" Cas offered, scooting into his booth with Samandriel or Alfie or whatever.

"You haven't been around much lately," Alfie told Cas accusingly. "We were getting worried."

Cas rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. Anyway, I haven't had much time to waste for a while."

"I've had more free time than necessary," Alfie said.

Cas frowned. "Don't you have school? Last I heard you got accepted to a university."

"Yeah, but I didn't go." Alfie looked away from Cas, then, sheepishly. "I didn't want to."

"Why not?" Cas said, sounding concerned.

Dean cleared his throat, feeling out of place. "I'm going to find a restroom," he said, getting out of the booth. He kept bumping against people as he passed them by. There were a few people dancing by the jukebox where Cas had found Alfie.

Dean waited in line for the restroom and once he got in and out, he took an empty stool seat by the bar. He was starting to feel the beers kicking in when he was handed a bowl of peanuts. Dean looked up at the face of the girl sliding the bowl closer to him, noting a small blond girl with a pretty smile.

"You're new, aren't you?" she said.

Dean started eating the peanuts, still staring at the girl. "I'm here with Castiel…Novak," he said, struggling to remember his last name. "He seems to know everyone in this place. My name's Dean Winchester."

"Oh, yeah," she said, shaking her head. "My mom just told me he's around here somewhere. If he thinks I'm gonna run up to him with open arms after all this time worrying sick about him, he's got another thing coming."

"You must be Jo," Dean said.

"That's right," she said. "So, are you Castiel's new lover?"

Dean nearly choked on the peanuts he was chewing, but it made Jo laugh.

"No," Dean finally said. "No, I have a boyfriend."

Jo set her elbows on the counter and moved closer. "Do me a favor and kick Cas in his balls when you get the chance."

"I'm not going to lie, but you're a scary little thing," Dean confessed.

Jo winked and went on to preparing more drinks for waiting customers. When Dean decided to go back to his table, Cas was alone.

Dean sat back down on his side of the table and drank from his beer because he'd gotten thirty from all the peanuts.

"You ready to go?" Dean asked, but Cas looked down at the table with a long face. "Hey, man, are you okay?"

Cas looked up, he had creases on his forehead. "Dean, Alfie's leaving."

"Where?"

Cas proceeded to tell Dean how Alfie had dropped out of school in order to go on a hunt for his own mother, who'd been turned into a vampire when he was very little. There were rumors that she was in Central America, and Alfie was heading there blindly. Stupid, Dean thought. And then he realized he was just as idiotic, possibly more.

"What will he do if he finds her?" Dean asked.

"Kill her," Cas deadpanned.

Dean could stop to judge Alfie as much as he wanted, but he had no right, especially because he'd never been in his place.

"Do you want to stay here?" Dean asked. "We could go find a motel close by. Maybe tomorrow we'll find some news on Medusa."

"Yeah, sure." Cas got up, and just as they headed for the door, Cas stopped. "I forgot to talk to Jo. Hang on."

"I'll wait in the car," Dean said as Cas tossed the keys to him.

Dean was tempted to get behind the wheel of the Impala, but then he thought about it twice and decided against it. Cas was already bummed out enough. He waited in the passenger seat until Cas walked out and got in the car.

"How'd it go?" Dean wondered. Considering that Jo wanted to crush Cas' balls, and that Cas wasn't writhing in pain, he guessed it went okay.

Cas started the car. "She invited us for breakfast tomorrow."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Look, Dean, I'm not the best hunter in existence," Cas said in a rush, staring straight into Dean's eyes with naked intensity. "Obviously you know that by now, but I will help you find this monster and kill it. I will, I promise. I just don't want you to think you're doing this for revenge. Your brother was killed, and that's terrible, Dean, it is. But this hunting business isn't about revenge. It might be how we start, but we need to remember that it's not all about hatred. We need to do this to save lives, to prevent another cruel death like your brother's. You got that?"

Dean stared back into Cas' eyes, the dead seriousness in his expression, and he nodded.

Cas smiled. "You're the only person who doesn't argue in everything with me."

Dean didn't say anything in response to that, but he liked being an exception of sorts.

The next morning, Dean and Cas returned to the Roadhouse and received breakfast as promised. The place was closed to the public, so it looked much difference to Dean this time with so much breathable space. Dean recognized Ash, who was sleeping on the pool table. Jo joined them on one of the tables and Ellen served them all waffles and coffee.

Cas told them about Adam, and their current hunt for Medusa. Ellen and Jo looked at them as if they were insane.

"You want to kill Medusa?" Ellen asked, sitting down with her own plate of waffles and mug of black coffee.

Dean turned to Cas before saying, "That's the idea, yeah."

"And how exactly are you planning on doing that?" Ellen asked, spreading syrup on her waffles.

"We still haven't figured that out," Cas said.

"From what we've researched," Dean said, "Medusa's mortal, so all we need is to get close enough without making eye-contact with her and then chop her head off."

"Right," Jo said. "Sounds like a piece of cake."

Dean grimaced. He could use some encouraging thoughts.

"I've been considering calling Pam Barnes," Cas said, drinking his coffee.

"The psychic?" Jo asked, raising an eyebrow. "Good luck with that. Last I heard she went blind."

"That's the point," Cas said.

"We're not talking about using an innocent person as bait, are we?" Dean said.

"She's gifted," Cas said, as if that resolved every problem with his idea.

Dean's phone rang, and he was glad to see it was Charlie, hopefully with news. "Excuse me," Dean said, getting up and walking a few feet away.

"What's up, Charlie?"

"Dean, there's been another incident," she mumbled quickly.

"What? Where?"

"A few miles away from the zoo in Omaha where Medusa broke into. Listen, an old woman was found just like Adam in her backyard. Apparently, the woman owned a large rattle snake, and now it's gone. The authorities are considering that maybe she was bit by the snake, and then someone dumped gallons of cement on top of her. Ridiculous, I know, but they're keeping this quiet for now." Charlie gave Dean the exact location of the house, and Dean said a quick goodbye to her before heading back to the table.

"We gotta run, Cas," Dean said. "Ellen, Jo, thanks for breakfast."

"Dean, what's going on? Was that Charlie?"

Dean explained everything to Cas on the drive back to the motel. Dean didn't want to make an unnecessary stop, but Cas pointed out that they should change into something professionals. Apparently, Cas was going to play FBI agent, and Dean was going to tag along hoping they didn't read his badge closely.

Cas was wearing a suit and tie attire, while Dean put on his dirty slacks from the previous night and a white long-sleeve with a tie he actually packed. Cas let Dean borrow a black jacket, and it fit surprisingly well.

"I'm Agent Johnson," Cas repeated as they rounded the corner to the house. "You're Agent Doggett. Your badge is just as mine, except Michael's on the picture. Just act confident and no one will notice any difference."

"Impersonating cops is a felony and I'm not even doing it properly," Dean complained, feeling completely nervous.

"Breathe, Dean." Cas pulled up behind a police car and cut the engine. "Come on, just follow my lead."

Cas walked out, straightening his tie and buttoning up the middle of his jacket. He winked at Dean quickly before heading for the first police officer.

"Gentlemen," Cas said. "We're with the federal bureau. This is Agent Doggett, and I'm Agent Johnson." Cas flashed open his badge, which was Dean's cue to do the same. The cop barely skimmed through Dean's badge before he nodded. Dean felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, especially now that he realized Doggett had been an FBI Agent on The X-Files.

Cas walked with the officer as he explained the case, and Dean did his best not to appear suspicious. He tried to imitate Castiel's posture and confidence, the way his eyes narrowed on the officer and his apparent concentration as he listened to the retelling of events and information. It was impressive, to say the least.

"I'm heading to the station," the police officer said, tiredly. "You know where to find me if you have any questions."

Cas turned to Dean once they were in the backyard alone with the statue of the old woman, whose name they now knew was Magdalena. She was on the floor, gripping at one of her legs, and just like Adam, she was frozen in between a scream.

Dean ran a hand over his face. The images of Adam were still vivid in his mind.

"You okay?" Cas said, watching Dean carefully.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's just get this over with."

"There appears to be one witness to this event," Cas said, reading off the papers he'd been handed by the cop. "An eighteen-year-old boy named Kevin Tran, who apparently came by every week to read to Magdalena for his community service hours. His statement says that he saw a woman dressed in black speaking to Magdalena's snake, but he arrived after the incident occurred."

"You think we should go talk to this guy?" Dean asked. "He's the only known survivor of this snake-obsessed bitch, isn't he?"

"Dean, I think it may be time we get a hold of Anna."

Dean looked at Cas, and for the first time he felt he could hug the guy. "We might actually have a shot."

"Maybe," Cas said. "Let's go talk to Kevin first."

Kevin Tran was terrified out of his mind, hiding in his house. The boy refused to open the door for them, until they finally convinced him to leave the chain lock on.

"I already talked to the police," he said bitterly.

"We want to know how you were able to get away from the scene without being noticed," Cas said.

"I ran," Kevin snapped. "I ran like hell to the police station."

"Okay," Dean said. "Did you, by any chance, look at the face or head of the woman you mentioned in your statement?"

"She was staring at the snake," Kevin said with a shaky voice. "She spoke to it, but I didn't understand the language she spoke. All I saw was the back of her. Her head was covered up."

Cas took a deep breath. "Alright, thanks for your help, Mr. Tran. Have a—"

Kevin shut the door before Cas finished speaking. Cas looked annoyed, for his usual calm mood.

Dean followed Cas into the Impala. "Let's just go back to the motel so we can call Anna."

Cas agreed and drove impatiently and unusually fast.

After Castiel's prayer to Anna, they waited around what seemed like an eternity for her to pop magically in the room.

But she was eventually there.

"Castiel," Anna said, and then turned to Dean, smiling a little. "I remember you. Still freaked out about angels, Dean?"

"Angels not so much," Dean said. He was so happy to see Anna that he couldn't help his smile. She was the solution to all of their problems.

"What's going on, Castiel? You said it was urgent."

Cas frowned. "It's not exactly as urgent as I made you believe. Medusa's on the loose. She's killed two people so far, and—"

"Michael has me informed," Anna interjected.

"We need your help," Cas concluded.

"Castiel," Anna said sternly. "I'm in the middle of something a little more important than one Greek creature on the loose. There is a bigger picture here. I might be able to prevent a global catastrophe from occurring."

Dean and Cas shared a glance with each other, both of them looking bewildered.

"What's the issue?" Cas asked moments later. "How global are we speaking?"

Anna actually rolled her eyes. "Castiel, our entire world's in jeopardy. The pagan god, Zeus, has been killed. It's madness in their world. A few rebellious gods and creatures have decided to reclaim the earth, our earth. Heaven is doing everything to prevent an unplanned apocalypse."

"Okay, rewind a little bit," Dean said quickly. "Zeus is dead? The Zeus? What the fuck?"

Anna sighed deeply. "He was killed by Artemis, Prometheus' hunter. The Greeks are complete savages."

"And you're telling me none of you saw any of this coming?" Dean wondered, sitting down on his bed. It was a bit of more news than he hoped for.

Anna folded her arms in front of her, pacing around the room. "We weren't counting on this yet. Heaven's not prepared, and even with all our angels at the ready, it's looking impossible to prevent this war from happening. Although there is one way, but no one up there is listening to me. I've lost my privileges."

"What do you have in mind?" Cas asked, stepping closer to her, looking at her with deep concern.

Anna sighed. "The demons are powerful entities. Despiteful, yes, but if guided in the correct direction, they could be the perfect allies. And they could also lend us hell as our battleground, since heaven is a little tougher to get into for those things."

Dean laughed, instantly regretting it because both Anna and Cas were scowling at him. "Oh come on, it's hilarious. Angels and demons working on the same side? That's straight out of a hippie movie."

"It's going to happen," Anna promised. "I will make it happen. For the sake of humanity's survival. The world's not supposed to go this way."

Cas took a ragged breath and placed a hand on Anna's shoulder. "We understand, Anna. I apologize for taking your time. Dean and I'll just make do with our own resources."

Dean bit his lips before suggesting she at least give them a compass packed with angel mojo to lead them to Medusa.

"I can help with one thing," Anna said, looking from Dean to Cas. "I can give you temporary invisibility once you find Medusa. It won't last longer than a minute or so—" she looked away, seemingly embarrassed. "My power is scarce these days. But at least that way you'll have a bit of an advantage."

Dean grinned, feeling a hint of hope settling into him. "Anna, I don't know how I could ever thank you."

Anna smiled in return, walking to Dean. "Be courageous, Dean. Any monster can smell fear, even if you are invisible."

"Absolute—" Dean said, just as Anna's wings ruffled her away.

"Angels aren't so great at goodbyes," Cas said, coming to sit beside him on the bed.

Dean turned to him, and Cas was already staring back. "Are you afraid?"

"Of what?"

"Everything."

Cas licked his lips very quickly, and Dean couldn't help but stare at the movement. Then Cas was smiling widely.

"I'm not afraid, Dean," Cas confessed. Dean stared into the blue of Cas' eyes again. "The only thing I could gain out of all this is death. I'm okay with that." And just like that, Cas walked out of the room, leaving Dean at a loss for words.

Dean found Cas at Harvelle's Roadhouse hours later, drinking alone at the table near the jukebox. Cas was still wearing his FBI attire, except now it was a wrinkled mess, the tie hung over his neck rather than on it. Cas looked a little over tipsy as he stood up to greet Dean with a playful smile on his lips.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said, placing both hands on Dean's head, rattling it like a toy. Cas chuckled at that, and then sat back down. "Hello, Dean, hello, would you play me a song on the jukebox? Pick a song, any song."

"Of course." Dean nodded, heading over to the jukebox and inserting a dollar. Dean flipped through the many CDs on the machine, until he found a decent song. "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" by The Beatles started playing, and Dean, satisfied, sat at the table with Cas.

Cas was gulping down his beer, but once he set it down at the table he started dancing on his chair to the music. Cas was shaking his head to the beat and doing a combination of both snaps and claps. For a second, Dean and Cas stared at each other and Dean could see an idea playing in Cas' mind, a small glimmer of something passed through his eyes.

Cas set both hands on the table, breathed significantly loud, and then got up, moving towards the bar. Dean watched as Cas gave small hip movements with every beat of the song, but he never stopped completely to dance. Once he got to the bar, he approached a short girl with dark hair who seemed to be alone. Cas leaned in to whisper something in her ear, and Dean wondered why the hell he was still staring, but it was hard not to. Seconds later, Cas was holding the girl's hand, pulling her close to him in a smooth move.

The girl was all giggles and joy, and Cas seemed to be enjoying it. The song had ended by now, but Cas dragged the girl with him to add more money into the machine, and another song by The Beatles started playing.

Dean watched as Cas danced with the girl, bodies clashing against each other with much excitement. They both danced unsynchronized, but they weren't exactly worthy of shame.

Whoa, we danced through the night, and we held each other tight, and before too long I fell in love with her.

Dean ordered a drink, seeing as he'd been officially replaced for the night. He thought of calling Sam, but he still hadn't made much progress on the hunt, and he didn't know when he'd be back. It'd be stupid to worry Sam more than necessary.

Cas returned to the table with the girl still attached to his hand. Dean's eyes lowered to their interlaced fingers.

"I'm Meg," the girl told Dean in between heavy breathing. "I was just telling Cas how long I waited to gain up the guts to come talk to him." She giggled again, regarding Cas with googly eyes. "He beat me to the punch."

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded, in an attempt not to be rude, and drank from his beer.

"She's a great dancer," Cas told Dean, then he looked at her, wide-eyed. "You're a great dancer."

"Aww shucks. I'm blushing." Meg covered her face with her free hand.

Dean continued drinking, containing any unnecessary remark from slipping through his lips.

Cas gave a full-throttle laugh at something Meg was breathing into his ear, and then he yelped and jumped up in his seat.

Dean made a face as he realized he couldn't see both of Meg's hands, and that was his cue to get up and leave them the hell alone. He made his way to a stool at the bar and finished his drink, wondering how much longer this would go. Not just this horrible night, but everything.

Jo—thank heaven—noticed him there and gave him another beer. Dean, for being an unusual drinker, was more than giddy about a second round of beer.

"What's with the hurt-puppy look?" Jo asked, sliding him a bowl of peanuts. Jo could possibly be his favorite person in this place right now.

"I have a lot on my mind," Dean said, eating his peanuts. "I'm in the middle of a hunt, remember?"

Jo smiled, knowingly. "Cas seems pretty chilled about it."

Dean snorted. "Cas is pretty drunk. I'm not."

"Oh quit your whining," Jo said, creasing her forehead. "Drink your beer. Relax. Be merry."

Dean rolled his eyes. As if life was that easy and simple.

When Dean went to check on Cas an hour later, he'd disappeared, along with Meg and the Impala. Dean admitted that he didn't know Cas for so long, but that just wasn't like him to leave Dean stranded.

Though, Dean also admitted that he came here walking, and it only made sense that Cas expected him to return home the same way.

So, Dean made his way back to the motel. It was a chilly night, but Dean had borrowed Cas' green jacket to go with his single pair of jeans. It was now when Dean regretted not wearing his pea-coat.

Once Dean got to the motel building, he thought of changing into his pajamas, lying in his warm bed and hopefully sleeping dreamlessly. Dean could sleep most nights now. It was as if his brain acknowledged that he was on his journey to bringing justice to Adam's death. Like maybe this entire ordeal was his way of making it up to Adam for all those years of negligence on his part.

Dean grabbed the motel key from his pocket, but as he headed for the door, he heard the prominent noises coming from the other side of the door. Dean backed away, but the thump-thump could still be heard. Dean felt furious that Cas would use their room for a meaningless hook-up. It was just a meaningless hook-up, wasn't it?

_Why the hell am I debating this?_ Dean thought, shaking his head. Fucking asshole.

Dean hated Cas. He hated his lack of compassion for Dean during this time. I mean, they were on a fucking hunt. Dean was still grieving. This was supposed to be taken seriously. Why the hell would he bring this fucking stranger back to their hotel and dirty it all up? It was their room, not just Castiel's.

Castiel had no right to…to what? To have some regular fun? To do whatever the fuck he pleased with whomever the fuck he wanted? Who was Dean to take that away from him? Who was Dean to barge in and drag Meg out of the room by her hair and leave her naked on the street? Who was Dean to be so fucking enraged over something as trivial as Cas having a fling?

Dean sighed once he was far away enough from the room to hear anything. He calmed himself down and headed to the motel office and got himself a room.

Dean convinced himself this worked out for the better. Now he had a king-size bed all to himself, to be in complete silence and solitude. To not be bothered with snores or the ruffling of sheets that didn't belong to him.

The following morning, Dean was surprised to be awoken by Sam's phone call. They hadn't talked since their last big argument. Dean didn't think Sam would ever call him again, honestly. Dean didn't really want to hear from angry Sammy anyway.

"Hey," Dean said in his groggy, morning voice. He gave a long yawn, shifting on the bed under the covers.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, cheerily. It was strange, considering their current situation.

"What's up? Are you heading to work?" Dean checked the time on his phone. It was five till nine in the morning.

"Dean, don't you remember what today is?" Sam asked, sounding confused.

Dean yawned again. It was way too early to be awake after the night he went through. "Um, Tuesday? Wednesday? I don't really know what day I'm living in anymore."

"You seriously don't remember," he said, sounding amused.

"What? Tell me, bitch."

"Jerk," Sam mumbled. "Dude, it's your birthday."

"What?" Dean sat up on the bed, rubbing at his eyes.

"You're the most annoying person when it comes to birthdays," Sam said, laughing. "You always make it an all-day celebration type of thing. How could you forget? Oh no, you're suffering from some kind of amnesia, aren't you?"

Dean groaned, feeling bothered by the realization that he had an excuse to celebrate. "No, Sammy, I'm…I guess I just forgot."

"But, Dean, I was gonna blast this really stupid birthday song on the speakers for you. I got you something, you know, for whenever you return."

"Hmm. Thanks, Sammy. I think I'll have to spend today searching for more news on the Medusa radar."

"MEDUSA?" Sam shouted.

So, it occurred to Dean that he still hadn't told anything about his hunt to Sam. And now Sam was angry and scared and it was Dean's fucking birthday even though he felt like shit. But that was the thing about birthdays. They happened whether you wanted them or not, and this year he sure as hell didn't.

After Dean explained everything to Sam, including their promised help from Anna that would grant them hopefully enough time to end this all and forever, Sam stopped freaking out.

"Just promise me you'll try to be safe, okay?"

"Of course, Sammy," Dean said. "Who else will make your life a living hell if I disappear out of it?"

"Don't joke about this. I want you back here in one piece." Sam took a long pause and Dean thought he'd hung up. "I want my best friend again."

Dean ran a hang through his messy hair. "You have him, Sammy."

"I'll see you soon?"

"Yes," Dean said through clenched teeth. With all his hopes, Dean still couldn't be entirely sure he'd make it out alive. And if that didn't finish him off, there was still the apocalyptic threat hanging over.

After Dean hung up with Sam, he had the desperate urge to brush his teeth and shower, except all his stuff was in the other room. Fucking Cas!

Since Dean still had a key to that room, he decided brushing his teeth and changing out of his clothes was more important that his resentment, so he headed to his old room.

The Impala wasn't on its usual parking space, or anywhere else in the parking lot, so Dean assumed correctly once he opened the door and found the place empty. Dean gathered his things, ignoring the messy bed, and headed back out the door.

Just as he was heading back to his own room, he heard the loud grumbling of the Impala pulling back into the parking lot. Dean finished his way to his room running, tossed his things inside and shut the door behind him with both locks.

But sure enough, Cas had seen him and now he was knocking on the door.

Dean thought it was a little childish after a moment, so he finally opened the door. "What do you want?"

Cas smiled. He was holding what looked like two cups of coffee and a plastic bag. "I went out looking for you this morning. I thought you stayed at the Roadhouse, but Jo said you left early."

Dean chewed his tongue, containing all he wanted to yell at Cas. He still hadn't brushed his teeth or showered, after all.

"Are you angry?" Cas asked, letting himself inside the room. He put the coffees down on the nightstand and the bag on the bed. "Why are you angry?"

"Why do you think?" Dean said, pulling out his toothbrush and toothpaste.

"Is it because I invited Meg over last night?" Cas said, looking much too innocent for Dean's liking. "She left really fast."

"Don't need the details, man." Dean grabbed a towel and walked into the bathroom.

Dean expected Cas to be gone when he came out of the bathroom, but the jackass was sitting on the bed watching TV, of all things.

"Dean, are you angry because you had to pay for a separate hotel room?" Cas asked as Dean dug through his bags for clean clothes. "You didn't have to do that."

"No." Dean thought of going into the bathroom to change, but hell, this was his room, so he removed his towel and started changing in front of Cas.

Cas didn't look completely away. "Dean, I don't understand why you're so angry."

"I'm not, just shut up." Dean finished getting dressed and hung up his towel on the rack in bathroom.

Cas picked up the plastic bag from the bed and pulled out a clear box with a slice of pie inside it. He offered it to Dean, but Dean only stared at it.

"Got you some pie," Cas said, setting on his lap. "It's cherry flavored."

Dean stared at Cas for a moment. Last time Dean had pie was when Mary baked it for him. He loved her pies so much. She made him one for every birthday, and holiday because she knew how much he loved them. After she went, Dean stopped eating them. They would never taste like the ones Mary made, so what was the point?

"What's this for?" Dean finally said.

"Oh," Cas said, looking down. "Sam called me to remind me of your birthday. He said you deserve to be happy today, no matter what. I was going to get you a birthday cake, but I wasn't given much of a warning."

"When did Sam call you?"

"This morning, around eight."

Dean grinned. "Oh Sammy."

"He's an awesome guy, isn't he?" Cas said suddenly. "I wish I knew him better."

"I didn't think you two were still on speaking terms."

"Well, he's not too happy with me, but he apologized for his last phone call. He just thought I could bring danger to both of you, and I can't blame him."

Dean sighed. "What happened to Adam wasn't your fault." Dean gripped the pie from Cas' hands, forming a small smile. "Thanks."

Cas smiled. "Dean, you don't have to stay in another room. I didn't think you'd even notice when we left. I don't usually behave that way, but I was feeling—"

"That's okay, Cas," Dean said, drawing the line in feelings. "You don't need to give me explanations. Anyway, I'm keeping the room. Nothing personal, but I like a big bed." Sleeping on a twin bed was really annoying.

Cas frowned.

"We have a lot of research left to do today," Dean said, in an attempt to change topics. "So, we should head to the local library. We should also call Charlie, in case there's been another incident."

"Dean, it's your birthday." Cas stood up, walking to Dean. "I gave my word to Sam that I would make you happy, and I intend of keeping that."

"Yes. But we also have priorities, and chopping off a Gorgon's head is first on our list."

"Dean."

"Cas, you want to make me happy? Drive me to the library."

And Cas had no energy to argue the point.

After hours at the library, Dean felt more productive and educated in Greek mythology, Medusa in particular. Now all they needed was to find a way to corner her and attack her from behind. The plan was reckless, but it was their only one.

Cas had called Pam, the psychic, who promised she had a solution for them, but she refused to elaborate. Apparently she had a long drive to make (well, whoever would be driving her), so they weren't expecting her until the following day.

As for Charlie, well, she seemed more preoccupied with winning over grumpy old John. She told Dean how she offered to clean up the house for him since it could easily be mistaken for a dump, but John tended to ignore her. Dean had to remind Charlie that there were more important things in the world than being liked, for example: tracking down Adam's killer. Dean wanted to believe Charlie had gone back to work.

Dean felt mentally exhausted. He wanted results now, but it seemed as if no further progress would be made today. It was the middle of the afternoon, still his birthday, and his only plan for the remainder of the day was watching a poorly-made horror movie, all alone in his room with his big bed.

Now that he was stuck in this situation, he sort of regretted telling Cas to stay away. Cas seemed too worried about Dean's happiness, but it wasn't up to him to cheer Dean up.

Dean stared at the untouched pie on his nightstand. He hadn't eaten anything sweet in weeks. He figured he could use a pick-me-up, and it was his damned birthday, so he ate it. And if he were to be honest with himself, he kinda liked it.

Someone knocked on the door just as Dean was disposing of the evidence. He cleaned his hands on a towel and opened the door.

Cas stared at him, an open expression on his face, along with a friendly smile. "Come with me?"

Dean narrowed his eyes on Cas. "Where?"

"To the Roadhouse," he said, bouncing on his toes.

"Why?"

Cas sighed. "Because I want you to. Do you trust me?"

Dean thought about it. "Sometimes."

Cas raised his eyebrows, challengingly.

"Okay, fine, I do."

"Then come with me." Cas turned around and walked back to the Impala.

After Dean turned off the TV and grabbed his (Castiel's) jacket, he got in the car. Cas drove with the music on one of his cassette tapes blasting through the speakers. It was American Pie again, and Dean couldn't help but unhinge his shoulders at the sound of the familiar song.

The Roadhouse parking lot was unusually empty. Dean realized why that was, for when they exited the Impala, he read the bolded sign that read "Sorry, we're CLOSED."

Cas opened the door, anyway, leading Dean inside. Dean was welcomed with a chorus chanting "Happy Birthday" to him made up of Jo, Ellen, Ash, and a woman and man whom he'd never seen before.

Dean, feeling awkwardly out of place, smiled at all of them and finally turned to Cas.

"Happy Birthday," Cas repeated, heading to the table full of snacks and beers.

Jo and Ellen walked up to him and they both hugged him.

"Cas booked us for a private party," Jo said. "We have karaoke, a fog machine, and a disco ball ready for the night."

"Guys, this really wasn't necessary," Dean said, although maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He wasn't the worst karaoke singer.

"Of course it was!" Ellen said, handing Dean an opened beer. "Drink up."

Dean gulped down his beer, feeling suddenly thirsty.

Ash was standing in front of Dean, then, holding a CD in his hands. "It's porn, dude," Ash said, giving the CD to Dean.

"Wow, um, thoughtful gift, thanks." Dean stuffed the CD into his jacket pocket.

"Oh, Dean, let me introduce you," Jo said, waving over the other two people in the bar.

The man was tall and bearded; his teeth looked sharp, oddly resembling that vampire who tried to kill him what felt like months ago. He was wearing a Greek fisherman's hat. The woman, a brunette with short hair and clear brown eyes, was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. They both looked like hunters, from what Dean had learned.

"Dean, this is Benny," Jo said. "He's my uncle, from my dad's side."

"Pleasure meeting you," Benny said, shaking Dean's hand.

Dean wasn't sure, but he could have sworn Benny's hand had lingered too long.

"You, too," Dean said, turning to the woman who'd wrapped an arm around Ellen.

"Dean, meet my best gal pal, Jody Mills," Ellen said. "She's a hunter and she's real interested in your Medusa hunt."

Jody let go of Ellen to shake Dean's hand as well. "But first thing's first: let's party!"

Dean noticed now that he paid closer attention to the Roadhouse that all the tables had been pushed to the side so that there was more room to wander around the place. He also noticed the large speakers next to the jukebox, just as Jo was hanging the disco ball.

Ash was busying himself picking the music playing. Dean went to sit as Cas danced with Jo, Ellen and Jody. Jo was trying to convince Ash to dance with them, but Ash didn't seem to budge.

Dean helped himself to a sub sandwich on the table, thinking that breaking his diet wouldn't be such a crime on his birthday. Not that he hadn't already, what with his delightful cherry pie from earlier.

Just as Dean reached for another beer, Benny offered him the one in his hand. Dean looked at it for a long while.

"I haven't drunk from it or poisoned it, for that matter," Benny said, laughing.

Dean laughed nervously with him, taking a big drink.

Benny took a beer for himself, now, and clicked it against Dean's bottle. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Dean said, drinking again. He was on his sixth beer. He was preparing for karaoke, after all.

Benny pulled a chair close to Dean and sat with him. "Empty party, eh?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't mind it. Cramped rooms suffocate me."

"I'll drink to that," Benny said, taking a sip from his beer.

Dean didn't feel like small-talk, so he stayed quiet and continued drinking. Cas was mimicking a tango dance with Jo. Dean wondered why the hell Cas never played around with him like that. Maybe he just thought Dean was no fun.

In a way, Dean had lost his fun when he decided his job was everything to him.

"So, you're a hunter?" Benny asked. Dean turned to look at him.

"I'm hunting something," Dean allowed. "But I doubt I'll continue with this lifestyle after I finish what I came here to do. I have a job to return to." And a house, and a boyfriend.

"Wish it were that easy to leave the business," Benny said, shaking his head. "I said that myself twenty years ago. My brother died on a hunt. We just don't have a say once we get in."

"I'm sorry about your brother," Dean said, deciding to ignore the rest of what Benny said. "I recently lost my brother, too."

Benny nodded. "Figures that's why you're getting all tangled up with Medusa."

Dean cringed at the mental image. "Yeah."

Benny chuckled, noticing Dean's reaction. "I sure hope you don't get killed in the process." He leaned closer to Dean. "It'd be a waste," Benny whispered loudly.

Dean stared at the dark of Benny's eyes. He could smell the alcohol in his breath, he was that close. Dean was a little drunk, but he could still tell when someone was invading his vital personal space.

"You shouldn't be a hunter," Benny said, still too close to Dean. "You don't want to ruin that face of yours."

Dean tilted his head, trying to understand what he was being told. From what he could grasp, and the fact that Benny's arm was touching his arm, he thought Benny was hitting on him.

"Dean," Cas said, his voice sounded far away, but as Dean turned forward again, he noticed that Cas was hovering over his table. "Um, we're getting ready to start karaoke. You wanna sing something?" Cas eyed Benny with little amiability.

"Oh," Dean said, nodding his head and getting up. "Yes, I want to sing. Is there any Bon Jovi?"

Five minutes later, the karaoke machine had started, and Dean was clearing his throat, gripping the microphone and swinging on his feet as the instrumental started picking up.

Dean noticed that his small audience was clapping encouragingly before he'd even started.

"Tommy used to work the docks," Dean started singing. "Union's been on strike. He's down on his luck. It's tough, so tough...She says we've got to hold on to what we've got 'cause it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We've got each other and that's a lot. For love, we'll give it a shot…"

After his impressive performance of "Living on a Prayer," Dean received a standing ovation from his audience, and a few whistles from Ellen.

Dean bowed for them. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here every Tuesday."

Cas took the microphone from Dean and shoved him back toward everybody else. Cas sang "As Long As You Love Me," and Dean couldn't miss the way Cas sang directly to him. Dean laughed because the Backstreet Boys had become their little inside joke.

By the end of the night, Jody tried to discuss Medusa with Dean, but they were both so drunk that they were slurring their every sentence and they gave up on a conversation. Dean made sure to thank everyone as he was being dragged away by Cas.

"That was awesome," Dean said, snickering to himself as Cas got behind the wheel. "I can't believe Ash can breakdance. What kind of sorcery is that?"

Cas laughed. "He's a man of many talents."

"I think Benny came onto me," Dean said as Cas drove away. He didn't know why he thought he should share that.

"Yeah, I caught that," Cas said dryly.

"But I'm with Sam."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm tired, Cas." Dean yawned and rubbed at his eyes. The streetlights bothered him.

"We're almost there," Cas said, and surely enough, he was already pulling up into their motel.

Dean hurried off into his room and Cas went into his own, which weren't so far apart from each other. But still, Dean wished he didn't have to go in alone.

Cas was banging on the door the following morning, and Dean woke up with a terrible headache.

"Pam just arrived," Cas informed Dean, looking worse for wear. His shirt wasn't even buttoned right.

"Okay, I'll get dressed," Dean said, closing the door on him and heading into the bathroom.

Pam waited for Dean in Cas' room. She was a good-looking woman with dark wavy hair, wearing a black leather jacket, dark jeans and sunglasses. Next to her was a very thin man with a goofy grin on his face.

"Dean, this is Pamela Barnes," Cas said, as Pam approached him. "Pam, meet Dean."

"Oh, I can see Dean pretty well," she said, reaching her hand to Dean's face, cupping his cheek softly. "Yes, I know you. Hmmm. Turn around, won't you?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at Cas, confused, but he turned around anyway. Dean felt two hands on his butt-cheeks and he gasped, taken by surprise.

Pam cackled. "Tight, firm ass, just as I supposed."

"Do you do this to everybody?" Dean wondered, frowning at the joyous look on Cas' face.

Pam folded her arms, smiling at Dean. "Consider yourself one of the lucky few." She turned her face to the side. "Garth, get over here, don't be shy."

The skinny man walked closer, and stopped beside Pam. "Hi, my name's Garth. I'm Pam's chauffer."

"He's one of my closest, dearest friends," Pam said. "But yes, he also drives me around everywhere."

"Okay, so, Medusa?" Dean asked.

It turned out that Pam had been digging into a little bit of white magic. Although Cas was opposed to that, Pam insisted it was safe and under control. She could find the exact location of Medusa, if she could use a piece of one of the statues she created. And there were only two, to their knowledge: Magdalena and Adam. It was a long shot, but Dean and Cas were now going to break into the Coroner's office, inconspicuously chop off a piece and take it back to Pam.

"Why can't I just get my own badge?" Dean complained as Cas parked the Impala. He was a nervous wreck again. Admittedly, not as much as the first time.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Cas pulled out his gun and handed it carefully to Dean. Dean looked around the street because Cas shouldn't be pulling out his gun just like that. "Relax, Dean, you're an FBI Agent, remember? You can have a gun. It's mine, but I'm giving it to you. Happy Birthday."

Dean gulped, staring at the gun in his hands. It wasn't just any gun, it was Cas' gun, and he was giving it to Dean, just like that. "Thank you," Dean said quietly.

"It's a Colt," Cas said. "A .45. It was my dad's."

Dean's heart sunk hearing that. "Cas, I can't accept this. You can't seriously…Why?"

Cas stared into Dean's eyes, letting out a long breath. "I want you to be protected. I won't always show up out of the blue to kill off your monsters."

"But—"

"I have a lot more pistols in the trunk," Cas said, smirking. "Take care of this one for me, alright?"

Dean nodded, feeling an extreme responsibility not to fail Cas, and not particularly about handling this gun.

Cas and Dean walked into the office, and Dean stood back to watch Cas work his magic.

"We're with the bureau," Cas said in his gravelly voice. "I'm Agent Johnson. This is Agent Doggett." Cue badge flashing. "We're going to need to examine Magdalena Brown's body."

The Coroner didn't seem surprised at this request, and soon they were led to Magdalena's statue. Not surprisingly, the old lady was still in the same position they'd last seen her. Once they were left alone, Dean turned to Cas.

"How the hell are we going to chop off a part of her?" Dean asked, squatting down to take a closer look at the statue. She was just as Adam, nothing but a rock.

"Hammer time," Cas said, pulling out a hammer from his jacket.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I'm stuck with you, Agent Johnson. I mean, seriously?"

"I've been dying to say that ever since I packed that hammer," Cas admitted, squatting next to Dean. "You think Pam will mind if we give her a shattered little finger?"

"Probably," Dean guessed. "Just smash it, we don't have much time."

Cas slammed the hammer against Magdalena's smallest finger, which broke into smaller pieces. But so did the rest of her hand. Dean placed the contents into a small plastic bag and stuffed it into his pocket.

"We should go before they come in and realize her hand's missing," Cas said, and Dean followed him outside.

"How long do you think we have until they realize?"

"I don't know, but let's just get in the car and go."

And so they did.

Once they got back to the motel, Dean gave the shattered pieces to Pam, who was setting up a bunch of candles on the floor, while Garth lighted them up.

"You idiot, I told you to take a saw," Pam said, snatching the bag and releasing the crumbling pieces in the middle of the candles, then she sat cross-legged on the carpet. "Lucky for you, this might still work."

Pam began her ritual, or whatever the hell witchcraft she was practicing, Dean didn't want details—he wanted results. "Hand me the map," Pam ordered, and Garth handed her what looked like a country map. Pam placed it on her lap, running her fingers hurriedly all around it. The flames of the candles grew and moved with the beat of her fingers. Pam scrunched her face, in serious concentration, and finally her hands were removed.

"Candle," Pam said, and half a second later, she was given a candle. She tilted it just slightly, so that some of the melted wax fell on the map. Dean peeked at the map, noticing that the wax had marked the state of Illinois. "She's in the windy city," Pam said, blowing out the candle in her hands. "I see snakes in a living room. Hell, I think she might be eating them."

"A living room?" Dean said. "So, what? She broke into another house? How the hell will we find her this way?"

"Driving will take too long," Cas said. "We need plane tickets. Now."

Dean turned to Cas, opening his mouth, but before he could protest, as Cas might have guessed, Cas raised a hand. "Buy four tickets for the next flight out to Chicago. I'll pack our things."

"They're coming with us?" Dean asked, as if neither Pam nor Garth could hear.

"Of course I am, big boy," Pam said, standing up from the floor, waving Garth away as he hurried to aid her. "I have two glass eyes; I don't run any harm in her presence."

Dean wanted to show his opposition to this, because he was sure as hell not okay with it, but the clock was tickin' and they still had no plane tickets, so he opened his laptop and searched. The next flight out was at two-thirty in the afternoon, and it was just about to be one. The only tickets left were first-class, and he took them, frowning at the credit card bill he'd receive next month. But if they were successful, it would all be worth it.

The moment Cas headed out to get Dean's bags and Garth called a cab to drive them to the airport, Pam sat on the empty space on Dean's former bed, close beside him. Dean was about to shut his computer to pack it away, but Pam placed a hand to Dean's. There was nothing playful about this action, not like when she groped him.

"I don't know if you believed me the first time I told you I could see you, Dean," Pam muttered, squeezing Dean's hand. "I know the desperation you're holding, I can feel the anxiety you constantly feel. The loss of your brother, I know you feel guilty for it, maybe even blame yourself at times for what happened."

Dean took a deep breath. He didn't want to be rude, but he didn't want to discuss any of this right now.

"You don't have to agree with me," she said, almost as though she could read his mind. Could she? Pam smiled, and Dean tried to convince himself she wasn't prying in on his thoughts. "We will find her, and you'll give everything you've got to destroy her, whether you'll fail or not, I don't know. But do you know what you'll do if you do make it out alive?"

Dean watched Pam, curiously. "What do you mean? I have a job to go back to, a place of my own."

"And Cas?"

"What about Cas?" Seriously, though, what the hell?

Pam huffed, seemingly annoyed. "Dean, are you really so stupid? Do you not recognize what you feel?"

Dean gaped at Pam, turning slightly at the noise of Garth opening the door and entering the bathroom, probably going there to hide. "What?" Dean asked, his throat feeling raspy.

Pam shook her head. "Well I'm not going to tell you if you're really so clueless."

"No, you brought it up, now talk." Dean felt his pulse quickening. What the hell was Pam trying to tell him? I mean, he got the hint, but what made her so sure of what she was saying? There was nothing there, absolutely nothing.

"You're not very smart when it comes to relationships, Dean," Pam said, in a tender voice, despite her choice of words. "What are you doing with your boyfriend, the one you must have back in Kansas? What are you doing with Cas, sweet faithful Cas, who's willing to risk his own life to give you peace of mind?"

"I'm not doing anything," Dean mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows at her insinuations. "How do you know about Sam?"

"You're asking the wrong questions."

Dean grimaced. "Listen to me, Cas and I are friends, nothing more. I wouldn't do anything to betray Sammy."

"You don't know what Castiel has been through, Dean," Pam said quietly, almost in a whisper. "As clueless as you are about any of this, you won't see it from him, he won't show it. But that man has been to hell and back, and with his current devotion to you, I have no doubt that you could finish him off."

"Finish him off?"

"He's coming," Pam said, looking to the direction of the door, as if she could see it.

And surely enough, Cas walked through the door with Dean's luggage. He placed them beside his own bag, and stared suspiciously at Dean and Pam.

"Am I missing something?"

"Nope," Pam said, standing up. "Cab should be here any second. Garth, what's taking so long?"

Garth stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel and throwing it on the bed. They heard a honk, and guessing it was their cab, they all left the room. Dean was only taking one of his bags, leaving the other in the Impala, which would be left parked in the Roadhouse to be dutifully monitored by Jo, or else. Whether or not they'd return, he wasn't sure, but he said his goodbyes anyway.

As they boarded their plan, Dean realized that he'd never flown before. His one and only out-of-state trip had been done by bus. He just wasn't up to being carried around in a heavy machine with unrealistic wings. The moment they took their seats—Dean sitting with Cas, and Cas taking the window seat after Dean's insistence, while Pam and Garth sat on a different row—Dean had trouble breathing.

"Dean?" Cas asked, obviously not being able to ignore Dean's mini panic attack.

"I'm okay," Dean said, trying to convince himself. "It's only a little more than an hour, right? I can stay above ground for an hour. No problem. I'm fine, I'm okay."

"Is this your first time flying?" Cas asked, his voice not sounding teasing, or amused, he was genuinely concerned.

Dean swallowed, feeling knives on his throat. "Yeah."

"I was pretty scared my first time, too," Cas muttered, and suddenly, his hand was wrapped around Dean's, held in between them. Dean wouldn't look at it, but he felt Cas rubbing his thumb on it, soothingly. "Just close your eyes, lean your head back and think of something funny. Do you want me to sing you a song?"

Dean turned to Cas, his eyes still wide with fear.

"I'll sing you a song," Cas said, squeezing Dean's hand. The plane started taking off, and Dean felt his breath escaping him. Cas laced their fingers together and Dean closed his eyes, trying to block out Pam's words from his mind. This wasn't the time or place to ponder on any of that. Cas sang American Pie to Dean in a very soft, smooth voice, much different to the one he heard the night before in karaoke.

"Well I know that you're in love with him," Cas continued singing, close to Dean's ear, but Dean wouldn't look at him. "'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym…"

"Cas," Dean whispered, finally turning to him. Cas was so close, his eyes so big and perfectly blue.

Cas blinked before he looked out the window. "I like flying. It's sort of a miracle, isn't it? Being amongst the clouds, watching everything below us, as if none of it mattered. As if being up here granted you a sort of power."

Dean tried seeing what Cas saw, but all he felt was the intense urge to puke. He also felt his palm sweating like crazy, so he unclenched his fingers from Castiel's and moved his hand back to his own lap. Cas simply continued gazing out his window.

Dean realized that Castiel saw the world entirely too different from him. And yet, at the same time, he was all too similar to Dean.


	5. The Hunt

As soon as they hit ground, they took a train that would lead them close to the house where Pam saw Medusa. They were basically following the blind, but Dean could feel it, she was so close he could almost taste it. He could picture killing her so clearly, that it should frighten him, but it didn't. Instead, it filled him with courage.

They exited the Blue Line on Harlem, and Pam guided them around a long street. The sunlight was fierce on this fine afternoon, in spite of the cold freezing wind numbing their hands and faces.

Pam turned into a corner, an alleyway that looked so trashy he imagined hobos residing in it. She touched the wall, her hands scanning for something. Dean had never seen her so agitated before.

"Well?" He asked. It was more than three hours since Pam had revealed Medusa's whereabouts. He couldn't blame her for not being sure anymore.

"I see her," Pam hissed. "I feel her. She's here. She's somewhere around here." Pam paced around them, hands on her hair.

Cas lowered the long case he was holding. It was incredibly unfortunate how they couldn't board the airplane with none of their weapons, so they'd left them back home. Cas had to call an old favor of a hunter friend close by who loaned him a machete for this special occasion.

"We need to call Anna," Cas said firmly. No one said anything against his idea, so Cas prayed. When a minute had gone by and no angel had shown up, Dean felt all hope lost. And just like that Gabriel appeared before them.

Dean backed away. "The hell? How did you do that?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Relax, Anna zapped me here. She's a little busy having a meeting with the King of Hell. I hear he's a dick, so I feel for her." He gave both Dean and a clear bottle that looked like absolutely nothing. "Drink this for invisibility. It's fool proof, or so she claims. She's so stressed out, I wouldn't be surprised if it only gives you gas. Did you find Medusa?"

"No," Cas said, staring down at his bottle. "We were hoping Anna would guide us to her."

"She's in one of these houses," Pam said, and Gabriel turned to her.

"Pam Barnes," he said, laughing. "I see you're still up and running."

Pam sighed. "Shut up, asshole, I don't have time to waste right now." She placed both hands on her head, as though putting pressure on it would help her see. Maybe it would? Dean didn't have time to think on this because Pam was walking out of the alleyway, coming to a stop outside a big house with a cactus on the front porch. "I'm going to try this one."

"What, is she in there?" Dean said, clenching his fists.

"Possibly," she said, walking to the front door. Dean turned to Cas, and Cas shrugged, not looking nervous at all.

"Is that machete going to become invisible, too?" Dean wondered, but Gabriel was hiding in the alleyway, barely noticeable. "You son of a bitch."

"Come on, Dean," Cas said, looking through the windows of the house. The living room was a disaster, from what they could see through the cream-colored curtains. Most of the things were broken, picture frames were on the floor, and just at the corner was another statue. A third victim they couldn't save. It looked like a middle-aged man, but Dean couldn't be too sure from this distance. "I'll unlock the door," he said, already working on the lock. Faster than Dean imagined, the door opened.

Pam said nothing as she entered. Dean heard a worried gasp coming from the alleyway, and he noticed Garth watching them next to Gabriel. Dean couldn't blame him. Pam was an exceptionally brave person, more than he could say of himself, whose knees were shaking.

He remembered, though, his promise to Anna. He was to be courageous. So he swallowed his fear and walked in after Pam, right beside Castiel. They were doing this together; both die or both survive together. Dean had reason, of course, but Cas? Cas didn't have a single reason, except helping Dean. What had Dean ever done to deserve that?

Pam reached her arms out, but somehow she seemed to know where she was going, and just as she rounded the corner, they heard her deep wicked voice.

Dean froze mid-step, and so did Cas, both quieting to listen.

"I have a visitor," the woman said, and Dean gripped the bottle, preparing to drink it, but Cas stopped him.

"Yes, well, I'm a big fan of your work," Pam said, without a shake in her voice. "You know, the whole turning people into stone. You deserve more recognition."

The woman laughed, the sound so fake and evil that it twisted knots in Dean's stomach. "How many of you are there? Hunters, right? As if I haven't dealt with enough of you to be surprised now. I'm just trying to have a nice dinner."

"Oh I'm not a hunter," Pam said. "But tell me, how is it that you feed on your own species? Isn't that a little hypocritical?"

The woman made a small furious noise that made Dean gulp quietly. "The serpents agree to the sacrifice, knowing it will strengthen me. After all, once Poseidon and Hades rule this pathetic realm, I will gain significant power. Soon enough, all of your species will be extinguished."

"You must be squirming with joy," Pam said. "Don't lose your head there."

Dean heard a loud noise, as if something had been tossed aside. He was dying to get this over with, but Cas seemed to know what he was doing.

"Look me in the eyes," the woman growled.

Pam laughed, but there was another noise, and then Dean heard a sharp gasp. Pam had been kicked, probably in the stomach. Cas nodded and Dean swallowed the empty contents on his bottle, which was nothing more than air. But somehow, soon enough, he was invisible. Dean couldn't see Cas, but he felt him, and he gripped onto his weapon. If someone was going to do this, it was him.

They rounded the corner to find Pam lying on the kitchen floor, bleeding from her mouth. There were dead snakes lying all over the floor, one of them on the table, half-eaten. There were hisses coming from the snakes in her hair, but Dean knew that he couldn't look up immediately. He saw the woman's feet, and judging from their position, he could see that she was staring down at Pam, giving them her back. Dean didn't know where Cas was, but he approached her, wishing with all his might that she couldn't sense his unhidden fear.

Medusa straightened up, almost as if she knew, but Pam laughed, almost breathlessly.

"You're just a bitch," Pam hissed, smiling, flashing red teeth.

Just as Medusa leaned down and pulled Pam up by her hair, Dean noticed the snakes that hung from her head were being pulled at, but they seemed confused, and Medusa looked too preoccupied with Pam to notice. In a single jerky movement, her head was bent to the side, along with the snakes and Dean wasted no time, as he slashed her neck, and her entire head fell and rolled on the floor.

Dean was back to his usual visible self, and so was Cas, and there was a headless body on the floor next to the head he'd recently chopped off. Pam was still bleeding, so Dean rushed to her side, but she shoved him away.

"I think she broke a rib," Pam said with a groan. "Shit."

"We'll get you to a hospital," Dean said. "Cas, give me a hand here."

"No," Pam snapped, flinching from the pain. "I just need some air. You get rid of her."

Dean watched her leave, feeling a stab of guilt add onto his shoulders for putting a perfectly innocent person in harm's way. When he turned back to Cas, he found him stuffing Medusa's lifeless head into a paper bag.

"I don't think airport security check will be too happy about that," Dean said, scratching the back of his head.

Cas sighed loudly, almost to make a point. "Then we'll steal a car. We can bury the body, but the head stays with us."

"I don't want her fucking head, Cas!" Dean almost shouted, feeling the nauseous feeling he felt on the plane earlier. "I just want to take Pam to a hospital, make sure she's alright."

"Dammit, Dean, I know what I'm doing," Cas snapped, his eyes were hard on him, and Dean noticed his hands were shaking. "Go check up on Pam," he said, softer now.

Dean went back out the house, but the feeling that something was very wrong still hadn't escaped him. He knew Pam was his biggest concern because he was sure he'd killed Medusa, so besides the apocalypse hanging over them like a gray cloud, there was no more danger. For now.

Pam was sitting on the front step of the house, breathing roughly. Garth was at her side, it looked as though he was holding back a long cry.

"She's badly hurt," Garth told Dean.

"I know. Pam, let me take you to a hospital. I think you've played hero enough for today."

Gabriel stood in front of them, glancing down at them as though they were all inferior to him. "I've seen her go through worse. She didn't lose those precious eyes for nothing."

"Shut the hell up," Pam said, moaning quietly at the pain. "I want to go back to Nebraska, get my things and go. Garth, let's go."

"No, wait," Dean said, standing up with them. "You can't go alone."

"I'm not alone," Pam said. "We'll take the next flight out to Omaha." Pam turned to Dean, smiling dimly. "Oh, and you're welcome."

Dean frowned. Letting her go just like that, after what she'd done for him, it was almost cruel. Dean didn't know how to ask her to wait until Cas got rid of the body Dean had just killed so they could go together to the airport.

"Think about what I said, Dean," Pam called, as she limped away with Garth.

Dean felt awful, even though he knew Garth was good watchful company to Pam, but he still felt like shit for what he'd cause her to do, for what she risked.

"When are you being picked up?" Dean asked Gabriel, who was smirking and for once, not eating candy.

"I don't think I am for a while," he said, placing a hand to Dean's shoulder. "Guess I'm sticking with you guys."

Dean hoped that this was what the dreadful feeling was at the pit of his stomach. Just the fact that he had to deal with Gabriel was bad enough to give him nightmares.

Cas buried Medusa's body, even though he knew she would eventually be found. It was just better than leaving her on the kitchen floor. Rather than stealing a car, Dean rented one (feeling already guilty enough), and they packed up the head in the trunk. After Cas returned the helpful weapon, the one Dean carefully cleaned, they set out for the road, heading back to Nebraska.

The seven hour drive felt more like a week long, what with him driving, having to deal with Gabriel in the backseat and Castiel's presence in the front. At times, the tension was so solid he could taste it. He still couldn't pinpoint that lingering worried feeling that told him nothing was safe anymore, or the buckets of guilt because of Pam, Adam and Castiel, because none of these people did anything to deserve being stuck in the situations they were placed in.

By the time they got back to Nebraska, Dean was too tired of overthinking everything. He didn't know what the hell to believe, what he was supposed to do, all he knew was that after they all got their hotel rooms, all three of them separately, he followed Castiel into his room.

"Can I come in?" Dean said as Cas unlocked the door and walked inside. He was thankful that Gabe had already gone inside his room because he didn't want him giving him shit for wanting to talk to Cas in private.

Cas removed his jacket and sat on the bed, looking as tired as Dean felt. He rubbed his face with his hand, exhaling. "What's up?"

"Thanks," Dean said, before he forgot. "Everything you've done for me, from the beginning, it's more than what I could expect from anyone. I know that I put you in danger tonight. I made you fight a battle that wasn't yours. Pam, too. I know I acted crazy, but now that this is over with, I still don't feel like anything's right. Adam's still dead. Pam's hurt. You're…" he trailed off, not knowing what Cas had gotten out of the deal.

"I did it, all of it, for you," Cas said, quiet and earnest.

Dean sighed. "Cas, I—"

Cas placed a finger to Dean's lips, shaking his head. "Dean, we did it. We finished the hunt. It's done and over with. Best part is, you get to go home, be with Sam, return to your job."

Dean blinked at the mention of Sam. Sam. Of course he had Sam. Miles and miles away, probably worried sick about him. But right here, right now, Dean had Cas. And that terrible feeling that just wouldn't leave.

"Is it really that easy, to leave this way of life I mean? Can I really just get away from all of this and pretend it never happened?"

Cas tilted his head, looking at Dean with squinted eyes. His beard had grown, Dean noticed. His hair was messier than ever, and his lips, so dry and chapped, and Dean couldn't look away.

Cas licked his lips, making Dean's eyes switch to his own, watching the way the blue grew darker as they dilated. Dean leaned closer, feeling the warmth of Cas' breath so close to his lips. Cas' eyes went wide, and Dean could tell he wanted to talk, tell him something, maybe to stop, but Dean couldn't help moving closer.

But as Dean moved closer, Cas moved away, and sooner than he realized, Cas was lying on his back on the bed, and Dean was climbing on top of him, their lips so close to touching. He felt a hand on his hip and another on his shoulder, but Dean couldn't stop staring into the eyes underneath him, gulping as he realized the need he had to taste those lips.

"Dean," Cas whispered, his voice strained.

Dean buried his head on Castiel's neck, spreading his hands above him on the bed, to keep from touching him the way he wanted to. "I like you," Dean murmured. Because he knew that much. He knew that Cas had changed his life completely, from the moment they met. Dean knew that Castiel was an incredibly selfless, kind, beautiful person, and he knew that the night he slept with that girl from the bar, it hurt Dean more than he accepted. He knew that he'd memorized the exact color of Castiel's eyes. But none of this overruled his compromise with Sam.

"I like you, too," Cas said, a little louder than Dean.

Dean lifted his head, his eyes glancing from his lips to his eyes, not knowing which he preferred. Dean groaned. This was what Pam had been trying to tell him, what he so hard tried to ignore.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, pressing his forehead to Cas' shoulder, trying to move away from him, but the hand on his hip and shoulder held him tighter.

"Dean," Cas said, lifting Dean's head, holding it in both his hands, which were too soft and warm. "You can't do this to him." It wasn't a question. Cas understood, he always had.

Dean nodded, allowing himself to run a hand through Cas' hair. "Tomorrow, we'll go back. I'll talk to him. I'm not doing it all for you, though, to be honest. I think he'll be relieved, actually."

Cas smiled, rolling Dean down from him, sitting up on the bed. Dean sat up, too, feeling a little awkward at his failed attempt to seduce Castiel.

"I admire your decency," Cas said, staring at Dean.

"Maybe I should go before you regret those words." Dean got up quickly, heading to the door. Before he opened it, he turned to Cas. "Just to be clear, did you like me when you slept with that Meg girl?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "I was drunk, Dean. I knew you were unavailable."

Dean nodded. "That's fair."

"Were you jealous?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Me? Jealous? No, of course not. I mean, just because you danced with her, and you dance with Jo and everyone else in your path, except for me, doesn't mean I'm jealous."

Cas gave a silent laugh. "I'll remember that next time."

Dean loved the way his nose wrinkled when he laughed, but before he could flirt more he decided to walk out that door once and for all. There was a time and place for everything, and this wasn't it.

The following morning, after showing up at the Roadhouse and surprising Ellen, Ash and Jo with the fact that they were still alive, they threw their things into the backseat, along with Gabriel, and headed back home—to Lawrence, Kansas.

This time, the atmosphere was tense, but not as much as it was the night before. Gabriel had bought a book and he was reading from the backseat, munching on fruit-loops straight out of the box. Cas was driving the Impala, having abandoned the car Dean rented. He figured the criminal life ensued after yesterday's events.

AC/DC played on one of the cassettes, the heat of an ordinary summer day radiated through the car, but the wind rolling through the windows as they moved on the freeway cooled them off. Dean could get used to this. Driving around, visiting new places, doing something. Sitting in his office for long periods of times had proved satisfying, but never to this extent. Despite the guilt he was storing, he couldn't picture his life ever returning to normal. He knew too much, he'd seen too much, and yet, it probably wasn't enough.

"You mind if we stop at Sam's before going to my dad's?" Dean said, lowering the volume on the stereo.

Cas glanced at him, the wind blew his hair fiercely around. "Sure, no problem. Gabe and I can grab some lunch meanwhile."

"Good thinking," Gabriel said, leaning forward on the seat. "I'm starving."

Dean turned up the music again, feeling a strange relief at what was coming. He felt like his life was starting a complete new chapter, and although he'd always feared big change, this time he was at peace with it.

"Do you know anything about Anna's progress with the demons?" Cas asked Gabriel, who'd gone back to reading.

"She doesn't share much," he said. "Well, not with me. She tells Mickey everything."

"Where is he, anyway?" Dean asked. Not that his presence was missed.

"Watching out for her," Gabriel said. "I don't think he can protect her as much as he believes, but she doesn't tell him to stop, so he tries to be with her most of the time."

Dean sighed. "So, there's no way of telling when the Greek gods will strike first?"

"Oh, I'm guessing the angel army won't be able to hold them off much longer," Gabriel said calmly. "We should expect a few global catastrophes any day now."

"Excellent," Cas said bitterly. "That's all we need."

"What can we do to prevent one of these catastrophes?" Dean wondered, feeling suddenly invincible.

Gabriel chuckled. "We can stay out of the way; maybe not get involved with any more Greek monsters."

"As long as they stay away from my family," Dean mumbled.

Cas looked at Dean with a smile as he took the next exit. Once they arrived at Sam's apartment building, Dean promised to call Cas later, because they had to get rid of the head in their trunk.

Dean knocked on Sam's door, feeling that instant pang of nervousness hit his stomach. He heard the familiar footsteps before Sam opened the door, with a wide grin on his face, looking as though he couldn't believe who he was seeing.

"Dean!" Sam gasped, pulling him in an embrace. "Dean, you're here! You made it back, and you're alive. Are you hurt? Is Cas hurt?"

Dean laughed, pulling away from Sam's tight hug that squeezed his insides. "I made it back," Dean said, with a smile the size of Sammy's.

Something in the over was ready, as it started beeping. Dean could smell something delicious cooking and Sam hurried to turn it off.

"Are you expecting someone?" Dean asked.

Sam returned to the living room, pulling Dean down to the couch. "Yeah, you remember Jessica Moore, my client? I invited her for dinner. She should be here any minute. I made enough, if you want to join us."

Dean smiled. "Oh, no, I want to see my dad, tell him that everything went fine, on the most part."

Sam asked about the hunt, and Dean shared everything in detail. Sam was especially delighted in knowing Dean had a nice birthday with good company. Dean did forget to mention Benny coming onto him, or the part where he, Dean, came onto Cas. Nothing happened, after all.

"So you really did kill famous Medusa," Sam said, almost in awe.

Dean nodded and sighed. It was the only thing he'd done right.

"Where's Cas?" Sam wondered. "I wanted to talk to him, thank him for watching out for you."

"Oh, he's with Gabriel, probably at a diner close by."

Sam nodded. "Oh, okay. Um, let me get you your gift." Sam went into his bedroom and retrieved a small square box. For a second, Dean's mind flashed back to engagement rings, but then he could breathe again when Sam opened the box and showed a gold pendant on a black string. It looked a little freaky, kind of like a pagan god, with horns.

"What is it?" Dean asked as he took it out of the box.

"It's an amulet," Sam said. "I got it from this shop where they sell really odd things, but I went in thinking of you. This lady named Missouri sold it to me, told me it would protect anyone from the dark spirits. I figured since you've been possessed, you could use it."

Dean smiled at Sam, staring down at the amulet in his hands. Sam took it from him to hang it around Dean's neck. Dean liked the way it felt and looked immediately.

"Thanks," he said, holding the pendant between his thumb and index finger. "I love it."

"I'm glad," Sam said, and there was nothing but honesty in his hazel eyes.

"Sam," Dean said, shifting on the couch. "I've been thinking about us a lot, especially in the last few hours. I thought of that Fourth of July when we snuck off together to watch the fireworks alone. And all those pranks we pulled on each other. We got along so well back then, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I know we did," Sam said, looking at his hands. "But then I went and ruined it by making us jump into a romantic relationship."

"No, you didn't ruin anything," Dean said, because it was the truth. Sam didn't do anything wrong. "Look, we had a wonderful friendship, and I think you want it back as much as I do. I want to go back to when we had no pressure to spend our free time together, when we didn't fight for every little thing. When we didn't have to watch what we said to each other for fear we would say the wrong thing."

Sam looked into Dean's eyes with a smile that reached his eyes. "Dean, I've been trying to tell you this for such a long time, but you never seemed to be listening."

"I guess I wasn't."

"I'm glad you came to this conclusion on your own, though. I figured I'd wait until it was a mutual agreement."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Gee, Sam, if you wanted to break up with me for so long, you should have just said so!"

Sam chuckled. "Dude, you think I would have broken up with you after you lost Adam? I'm not that heartless."

"Bitch."

Sam shook his head, still smiling. "Jerk."

"Okay, so, since we're being honest with each other, can I ask what's going on with Jessica?"

"What do you mean? She's my friend," Sam said, looking too innocent.

"Yeah, right. You're cooking for her, you have the table set, you're wearing your favorite cologne."

Sam laughed. "Dean, I'm just being nice."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Nice enough to get into her pants?"

"Dude, we just broke up. Less than a minute ago. You can't wait at least an hour to start teasing me?"

"I know you never would have done anything to betray my trust," Dean said. "It's exactly why I never acted out on anything."

"You mean with Cas?"

Dean felt blood rushing to his face. "Okay, you're right. It's too soon."

"Come on, I knew you liked him since the first day."

"What? No I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" Sam laughed loudly, obviously enjoying himself. "You're always mean to people you like, starting with me. I know you too well."

Dean frowned. "Well, I'm glad I was the last one to know I had a crush."

Sam laughed even harder. Dean rolled his eyes again, just as the doorbell rang. Sam tried to control his laughter as he opened the door.

A beautiful blond girl walked in. She had a smile so honest and eyes so big that Dean couldn't stop looking.

"Hi, Jess, come on in," Sam said.

The girl, who was indeed Jessica, looked at Dean and back to Sam, looking confused. "Is this…is this Dean? He's back?"

Dean got up to shake her hand, but Jessica pulled him into a hug instead. "Hi."

"Oh, Dean, I've heard so much about you," she said, releasing him. "Sam told me you'd gone to take care of something highly dangerous and he was worried about you. I'm so glad you're back, and you're okay?"

Dean grinned. "Yeah, I'm perfectly fine. Well, I don't want to intrude on your dinner. I have to get back home, anyway. Bon appetite."

"Wait, Dean, you're not staying?" Jessica asked, looking at Sam, even more confused. "You're not leaving because I'm here, are you?"

"No, no, really," Dean said quickly. "I have to get home. Sam's a free man now, you know. Just saying."

Sam gave Dean his best Bitchface and Dean laughed all the way to the elevator.

After Dean called Cas and told him to pick him up, Cas and Gabriel showed up in record time. Cas didn't ask anything and Gabriel didn't pry, so the ride to Dean's former home went well.

Once they got home, Dean was ready to rest after such a long drive. Cas took Medusa's head out of the trunk and carried it into the house. He believed they had to cement it so she could stay dead. Dean didn't think it necessary, but Cas could do this if it made him happy.

Dean let them into the house, but the house was too quiet. No sign of John or Charlie around.

"Dad?" Dean called.

Gabriel flopped down on the couch and turned the TV on. Cas took the head to the backyard and Dean went into John's bedroom to check if he was there.

"Dean?" Cas called from somewhere in the house. "Dean, get over here."

"What is it?" Dean asked, following the sound of Castiel's voice, coming from the kitchen. "Cas, you have to slide the door to open—"

A levitating man carrying a sword stood on his kitchen. He wore winged boots and a matching helmet, and some kind of ancient armor that looked more like an iron kilt.

"Where is Medusa's head?" the man spoke, with a voice so gravelly it put Castiel's to shame.

Dean stared at Cas, his eyes trailing down to the plastic bag in his hands, the one he was trying to hide behind him. Gabriel entered the room, then, looking entertained as he stood against the counter.

"What do you care?" Cas said defensively.

"Have you not any idea who I am?" he said, as if waiting for them to get on their knees to worship him. "I am the Great Perseus."

Dean's brain clicked at the name. "Oh, yeah, I read about you. You're a demi-god, big hero, huh? I also read that you fucking killed Medusa and took her head. But I'm guessing it was all publicity since she was recently up and going, even killed three people."

"Medusa was beheaded by me," Perseus said, glaring at Dean. "Her head was put away for a long time. Lately, our world has faced enormous chaos. Stheno and Euryale managed to find the place where the head was carefully hidden. They were able to rebirth their sister."

Dean felt a headache beginning to grow, pulsating all through his head. "So, what do you want with her head now? You couldn't take care of it the first time."

"And I'm afraid you're a little too late," Cas said. "If you'd killed her again, you could have saved us a lot of trouble."

Perseus shifted his mighty glare to Castiel, his upper lip twitching. "I was following her trail. Now hand me over her head."

"No," Cas hissed.

"Stheno and Euryale have already been alerted of Medusa's death," Perseus said sternly. "They have set out after the two of you. Once they find you, they will murder you and take Medusa's head in order to restore her body again. If you hand it over now, you'll only have two angry sisters to worry about."

Castiel was growing furious, his chest heaving. "No," he repeated slow but loudly.

"Cas, he's got a point," Dean said, a little intimidated by Cas at the moment. "If we're being followed, and the rest of those bitches get a hold of her head, she probably won't be as easy to kill next time."

"Not after all we did," Cas said. "We can't give her to him like a trophy!"

"I will be sure to destroy her entirely," Perseus said. "There's no need to have history repeat itself."

Dean turned back to Perseus. "So, what? These Gorgon sisters, aren't you going to do anything about them? I mean, I've read about them, and if any of that's true, then I know they were after you for a long time. You never killed them?"

"They were never a threat," said Perseus, looking ahead of him.

"You were obviously very wrong," Dean mumbled. "But those bitches, they're immortal. They can't be killed. How are we supposed to stop them?"

Perseus smiled, just barely, staring down at Dean again. "You can't."

Dean felt his heart speeding faster, the fear crawling into his system again, a bomb exploding in his stomach, spilling his guts out. This was his bad feeling all along. Of course the danger wasn't over. Nothing was over.

"Dean, we will find a way," Cas said, looking at Dean with extreme concern as he leaned himself against the closest wall, unable to hold his balance.

Dean shut his eyes and shook his head. "Just give him Medusa. I want him out of here."

"No, Dean—"

"Fucking dammit, Cas," Dean snapped, opening his eyes. "Give him the bag."

Cas tightened his jaw and threw the bag towards Perseus, where it rolled close to his floating feet. Perseus stabbed through the bag with his long sword and lifted it in the air. Less than a second later, he was gone.

Dean was sitting in his dad's old chair, hardly listening to Castiel explaining everything to John, who'd just arrived from work. Gabriel was on the couch again, mindlessly watching TV as though all was well with the world. Dean's head had nothing more than negativism that led him to believe Cas, John, Charlie, Pam, Garth and basically everyone else who was involved would be dead in a matter of time.

His head was spinning. He was aware that he wasn't strong enough to handle this situation. He was fooling himself from the start. Dean Winchester wasn't capable of taking on a hunt, much less become the hunted. But maybe nothing would matter, if the world really did start to collapse.

Charlie barged in the door just as Gabriel started surfing the channels. He stopped at a world newscast, as an anchorperson he'd never seen before announced that there had been a series of tsunamis on the coast of Brazil. Countless people were missing, injured, or found dead. Dean recognized this as the beginning of the end. Charlie walked in front of the TV, turning it off and turning to Dean.

"Is it true?" she asked, walking closer. "Did you kill her?"

"Yes," Dean said, bleakly. "I killed her, but I might as well have killed all of you."

Charlie knelt in front of Dean, reaching for his hand. "Police found her body on the backyard of the last house she broke into. They think she was just a highly skilled sociopath. Where did you hide the head?"

"Perseus took it," Dean said, realizing how insane this all sounded. "Oh, and we're being hunted down by her sisters, Stheno and Euryale. It'll probably take a day's worth for them to find us and kill us all."

Gabriel laughed as Cas and John walked into the living room, looking as furious as Dean felt at the sight of Gabriel.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm sorry, but Dean's acting like a prissy. He's already preparing his last words, I bet. Don't you know there is a way out of this? It's so simple. I thought Cas would have shared it by now."

Dean turned to Cas, noting a flash of an idea cross his face, but then he continued frowning. "What's he talking about, Cas?"

"Nothing," Cas mumbled, folding his arms.

"Gabriel," Dean said, turning back to him. "Talk."

Gabriel crossed his legs on the couch, leaning forward, as if about to start story-time. "Okay, so there's this angel named Balthazar, who's more fallen than our dearest Anna. Balthazar stole the weapons of heaven, stored them away somewhere. For a long time, Anna tried to hunt him down. She thought that returning him to heaven, locking him up, would push them to get her back. It all would have worked out fine, if it hadn't been for my baby brother here who went onto becoming his lover. I'm not sure where it all fell apart, since Cas doesn't talk about him anymore."

Dean looked at Cas, now, who had his deadly cold eyes upon Gabriel. He felt his heart sinking, deep down in his chest.

"Anyway," Gabriel continued. "Balthazar has a weapon in there somewhere that will be more than beneficial to kill the rest of the Gorgon sisters. All you need to do is pray to him."

"I'll do it," Dean said.

"NO!" Cas yelled.

Dean stood and approached Castiel, with nothing more than anger. "Listen to me, if this is our only shot at killing the rest of them, I'm taking it. With or without you."

Cas leaned closer, defiantly. "He won't come for you. Last thing he wants is to help anyone."

"Then I'm guessing he will come for you," Dean hissed. "Call him."

Cas continued glaring into Dean's eyes, struggling to keep his breathing steady. "I can't," he whispered.

Dean groaned and grumbled incoherently, slamming his fist against the wall behind Cas. "Don't you understand? This is the only way to save ourselves, to save everything."

"Dean," Cas whispered, almost pleadingly. "I can't."

Dean backed away, rage filling in his blood vessels. Everyone in the room was watching them, but Dean couldn't stop reacting.

"Maybe you just don't care enough about anyone," Dean said, running hands through his hair, falling back down on John's chair, unable to look over at Cas anymore. "But you better go back where you came from because I don't want to see you here again."

Last thing Dean saw before closing his eyes was Cas and Gabriel walking past him, and then he heard them opening and closing of the front door. After that, it was quiet again.

Dean decided to stay at his dad's that night, especially because he couldn't stand the thought of leaving him or Charlie alone, to fend for themselves. If Cas had been good for one thing, it was giving him a gun to protect himself. And maybe it wouldn't necessarily work, but it made him feel a little less useless.

John walked up to Dean, as he lay sprawled on the couch watching a documentary on WWI. John sat on his chair; the one Dean had used not to break down today.

"Son, I'm proud of what you've done for your brother," John said, uncommonly softly. "It's more than I was capable of doing. I know, wherever he is, he's proud of you, too."

Dean snorted. "It backfired on me, so I wouldn't be too sure."

"Regardless, I know you had your best intentions." John leaned back on his chair, swinging it, angling it to Dean. "I, uh, appreciate what you did."

Dean pretended his attention was more on the war reenactment, but he still nodded. "Good night, dad."

"'Night, Dean." John got up, turned off the kitchen lights and went to his room.

Dean thought he was dreaming by the time he heard a banging on the door. But once he opened his eyes and the sound wouldn't stop, he knew someone was dying to get in. Naturally, he grabbed his gun, which was sitting on the coffee table, and walked to the door.

He peeked through the peephole, only to find Castiel on the other side. It would probably be rude to shoot him with the gun he gave him, but he seriously considered it.

Before Cas could knock again and wake John up, Dean opened the door, pointing the gun at his chest.

Cas raised both his arms. He looked sweaty, too messy, and still unshaven. "It's me, Dean. I'm not some demon or shape-shifter."

"Oh. Right." Dean lowered his gun. He didn't want to sound stupid, but he never even considered those possibilities.

"Can I come in?" he said, pushing the door aside and striding in. He leaned back against the door, pushing his wet hair to the back.

"I thought I told you to leave earlier," Dean said, keeping his distance from Castiel.

"I got a hold of Balthazar," Cas said, and Dean could have sworn there was a slight shudder when Cas said his name. "He'll bring the weapons necessary tomorrow."

Dean stared at Cas, silently for a moment, until he couldn't resist pulling him into his arms. Cas gripped at Dean's hair and shoulder with his hands. After a shaky intake of breath, Cas started shaking. Dean tightened his hold on him, pressing his face to his neck, blowing there a little because Cas was heating up.

Cas was crying, he saw his wet cheeks when they pulled away, even in the poorly lit room. Dean cupped his face, regarding him closely.

"Cas, I'm sorry about the way I treated you today," Dean muttered, leaning their foreheads together. "You know I didn't mean any of it."

"I gave everything for you, Dean," Cas said, once his tears slowed down. "How could you think—How could you be so sure that I don't care? Dammit, Dean, I care fucking too much!"

"I know, baby," Dean said, startled at the petname, but he let it slide. He tried to embrace Cas again, but the other man shoved him away.

"No, you have no idea," Cas said, drying his face with the back of his hands. "You don't know a single thing about me. Dean, I had my reasons for not wanting to call Balthazar, but you were too stubborn to hear me out."

Dean gulped, feeling that powerful guilt all over again. "Cas, I—"

"I think you've talked enough, Dean," Cas said, shutting him up. "Balthazar used me; I was his little fun toy he could play with for months. He used me because he knew Anna wouldn't turn him in as long as I was attached to him. And attachment is an understatement. I fucking loved that angel, with everything I had. See, most people are capable of loving a person just barely, but I'm not as lucky. When I love someone, whether it be my brothers or a partner, I love them completely. I don't know an in-between. He used this against me. He fucking played with me, in every way possible.

"Don't get me wrong, a person can get over a relationship," Cas continued, pacing around in the same circle. "That's long gone, but you don't know how it made me feel, Dean. I was so stupid, so naïve and I shouldn't have allowed myself to care so much. For longer than a year, I roamed the country doing absolutely nothing other than harming myself. And it wasn't for him, it was for me. It was because I fell so easily for his traps. I was maneuvered like a puppet for so long, and I couldn't realize it. I mean, the only reason I ever found out was because he had to spell it out for me. I guess he couldn't be that cruel."

Dean was at a loss for words. He felt bile rising up to his throat because he hated Balthazar, and he hated himself for pushing Castiel back to him again. He'd been so selfish, so absolutely wrong.

"How can I fix this?" Dean asked, reaching a hand to Cas' cheek. This time, Cas didn't flinch away from the touch.

"Dean, it's not broken," Cas mumbled.

Dean felt his head spinning again. He had the urge to fall on his knees in front of Castiel, because he didn't deserve anything that Dean had given him.

Instead, he angled their lips and sealed them for the first time. It started slow and soft, Castiel instantly reciprocated by tangling his hands on Dean's hair. Dean held Castiel's face between his hands, trying his best to make him forget his sour past, letting him know that Dean was here now. He wasn't going anywhere. He would never play with his feelings.

"Dean," Cas breathed, pulling away just barely, licking his lips. Dean took his lips again, pressing his tongue in between them, and Cas eased him access to his mouth. Dean's hands moved down Castiel's neck, then to his shoulders, massaging them enough for Cas to unhinge them. Cas bit at his lower lip, and then kissed at Dean's chin, cheek, tip of his nose, like a prayer.

"You want to go to bed?" Dean murmured, pressing soft kisses to Cas' jaw.

Cas nodded, holding Dean's hand as he showed him to his room. Once they got in, Dean removed Castiel's jacket, and then his own. Cas undressed himself, staying in his boxers, and put on one of Dean's old t-shirts that still hung on his closet. Dean smiled at him as he changed into something more comfortable himself, and then they both crawled into bed.

Dean was falling asleep again when Castiel turned the lights off. There was a space between them that was mutually breached by their limbs tangling together. Dean's leg moved between Castiel's legs, and Cas wrapped both arms around Dean, kissing his lips slowly and tenderly. Dean couldn't believe the warm feeling in his chest, his excited heart speeding wildly.

"Cas, do you trust me?" Dean whispered, breathing quickly, close to his lips. His hands kept pushing back Cas' drying hair. It was much too long to keep in one place.

Cas kissed him again, breathing a simple "Yes" to his lips.

"I trust you, too," Dean said earnestly. Because he did. He absolutely did.

Dean continued kissing Castiel, sometimes a tongue slipped it, but it was mostly just soft lips quietly pressing to each other, easing a hunger that had built up between them. They kissed and kissed, and somewhere in the middle, they both fell asleep.


	6. The Junkyard

Dean woke up to Cas stretching beside him. Dean noticed that his shirt was lifted, so much that he could see Castiel's belly button. Dean couldn't resist the smile that grew on his face, reaching a warm hand to Cas' uncovered stomach.

"Hi," Cas said, voice rough from sleep. He was watching Dean through half-opened eyes, but once he felt Dean's hand running up his shirt, his eyes were completely open. Cas let out a quiet chuckle, pulling Dean's hand out from under his shirt.

"Hi," Dean said, weaving his hand now through Castiel's hair. He simply couldn't keep his hands to himself. "Good morning."

Cas yawned, shifting so that he was on his side, mirroring Dean. "Morning."

"We have a long day ahead of us," Dean muttered, moving his fingers down to caress Castiel's cheek. His beard was so long, he would soon be able to thread his fingers through it.

Cas grinned and leaned at the touch, resting one of his hands on Dean's waist, pulling him closer. "Let's not get out of bed, then."

Dean met him halfway for a chaste kiss that went on and on, until he felt Castiel's hands inside his boxer briefs, tentatively scavenging for a surprise, which he soon found and Dean's lips froze mid-kiss.

Cas, the fucking tease that he was, removed his hand and used it to push Dean's head so that their lips clashed again, laughing knowingly all the while.

"Fuck you," Dean muttered, biting at Cas' lower lip.

Cas laughed again, a wonderfully rough sound in the morning. "I'd like to, but we do have to get up." But just as he said that, a long leg wrapped around Dean, almost possessively, dragging him closer, which Dean didn't know was possible.

Dean leaned in for more kisses, because Castiel felt so warm and comfortable, both of them tangled in a blanket and each other. Dean indulged in the feeling of Castiel's beard scratching at his chin and cheeks with every kiss, not resisting a smile when he realized Cas was purposely touching his beard to his face.

"Alright, we need breakfast," Dean said, trying to pull away at last, but Cas had his hand already gripped tight on his back. "Breakfast…" Dean said between more freely given kisses, which he couldn't really complain about. "Is…the most…important meal…of…the day."

Cas pulled away, just enough so that he could lick his lips and stare up at Dean with incredibly soft eyes. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long. I don't want to let you go, now."

Dean felt a different type of heat taking over inside him. Not the one that started around his bottom midsection, but the one that grew in his chest and made it harder to breathe. Cas seemed to notice this, him being so close, and when he looked down at Dean's chest, he moved further away to pick up the amulet that hung from Dean's neck.

A careful set of fingers held it, as though it were a priceless possession.

"It's an amulet," Dean said quietly, running a hand through Cas' bed hair, which was fucking sexy in the morning. "Sam gave it to me. He said it's to keep the bad spirits away."

Cas placed the amulet carefully on the pillow between them, and continued looking into Dean's eyes. If Dean hadn't been used to this by now, he would have felt slightly awkward, but somehow he enjoyed being watched so intensely by Cas. Granted, he would give anything to know what was running through his mind.

"Are you okay?" Cas finally said, cupping Dean's face, tender and careful, like Dean was another priceless amulet. It was strange when Dean thought of the set of hands holding him this way; they were the same ones that have beheaded countless monsters. "I know you and Sam have a long friendship behind you." Dean raised an eyebrow, but at that, Cas added, "Sam told me."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, and I think that's the biggest reason it never worked out between me and him. Sam wanted to end it for a while now, and I guess I did, too, but I never actually accepted it. Before you came into my life, I wanted to believe my life was perfect."

"I'm sorry," Cas said, earnestly, removing his hands and blinking up at Dean. "If I had known I would ruin so much in your life, I wouldn't have stayed."

"Cas, you opened my fucking eyes," Dean said, too loud maybe, but he was speaking the truth. "I was so blind, pretending nothing was wrong in my plastic little world. If it hadn't been for you, I would be stuck in my same pointless routines, doing nothing worthwhile."

Cas didn't look entirely convinced, so Dean pressed his lips against his again and again, and they went through another marvelous make-out session before finally getting out of bed.

Dean showered first and hurried to make a nice breakfast for the both of them. When Cas walked into the kitchen, shaved and fresh out of the shower (and unfortunately clothed), he joined Dean at the table, and they ate alone together since apparently they'd missed John. Dean didn't mention it, but part of him would miss that messy beard.

They had a quiet breakfast, filled mostly with sexual glances at each other, or so Dean imagined. Cas smiled a lot, more than Dean had seen him smile in the entire time he'd known him.

"Anybody home?" Charlie asked, walking in the house, holding a laptop at hand. She went into the kitchen and sat at the chair across from Dean on the square table. "Ooh bacon!" Charlie grabbed a piece of bacon from Dean's plate, which he was saving for after his toast because who diets during the apocalypse?

Dean scowled at her. "How did you get in? Door was locked."

"Johnny made me a key," she said, chewing on her stolen bacon. "I prefer working here because your dad has the best records. And his turntable beats my mp3 player."

"Johnny?" Dean said, looking confused. Cas shrugged when Dean turned to him for an answer.

Charlie beamed. "Your dad's not too fond of the nickname as of yet, but I'll get him to like it. We're friends, you know. Tight like skinny jeans."

Dean made a face at Cas that showed his amusement. Cas looked like he was chewing on his cheeks to keep from laughing.

"How did you get that to happen?" Dean wondered, smirking. "Oh no, don't tell me. You sold your soul to a crossroads demon, didn't you?"

Cas made a disapproving grunting sound, shaking his head. "Please don't joke about this, Dean. I've lost track of how many idiots have made absurd deals for a few years of luxuries, but it's a pain in the ass trying to keep the hellhounds from chewing their guts out."

Dean scratched at the back of his head. He hadn't realized that could literally happen.

"No demon deals," Charlie assured Cas. "I just researched enough baseball so that I could watch a game with Johnny. I don't have concrete proof on this, but I'm almost sure he called me 'bud' the other day."

"That sounds kinda serious," Dean said mockingly, ensuing a soft kick from Cas under the table.

"Well, it was an achievement," Charlie said, not at all bothered by Dean's tone. "I should really dig up more on these other two Gorgons. I think I also have a few phone calls to make. If you need me, I'll be on the couch." She got up and made an impromptu office desk out of the coffee table in the living room.

Cas rolled his eyes at Dean's face expressions that followed Charlie out the room. But it soon hit him that reality was still waiting for them, including an apocalyptic threat and a couple more Gorgons on their tail. Cas was in sync with Dean, his mood dropping simultaneously.

"He'll be here at noon," Cas said, finishing his glass of milk.

"Balthazar?" Dean asked incredulously. "Here, in my house?"

Cas sighed impatiently. "Where else, Dean? There was nowhere else to ask him to meet me. Gabriel's back with Michael."

Dean hated the thought of Balthazar setting foot in this house, for so many reasons, but the frown on Castiel's face told him he wasn't the only one unwilling to see the asshole.

"Hey, I will talk to him when he comes," Dean said, holding Cas' hand. "You don't even have to be in the same room. I got a few things to tell him, anyway."

"Dean, no," Cas said sternly. "If you anger him, he won't give us the weapon and equipment we need. Don't risk our only chance, please."

"No," Dean said, squeezing Cas' hand. "No, I won't risk it. Trust me."

Cas nodded. "Of course I do."

Dean's watch read a quarter after noon, and Balthazar was still a no-show.

Dean groaned. "I mean, what kind of douchebag steals Heaven's weapons? Don't you think they'll need them for World War III?" He leaned against the back wall and folded his arms.

Cas leaned back on the couch, chewing nervously on his thumb. "He's already one step ahead of them. He has a plan, he told me about it."

Dean ignored the knot that twisted inside him at the thought of Cas talking to that fucking angel, especially because he pushed him to do it. "What did he say?"

"Well," Cas said, looking from Charlie to Dean. "He said he was hoping for a trade. If Heaven swore to stop the hunt for him, and to never punish him in the future, he would hand over the majority of the weapons, seeing as he sold a few of them already."

"Punish him?" Dean said, perplexed. "You mean, like, spank him, or…" he trailed off when he saw Charlie peering at him curiously over her laptop.

Cas shook his head, sighing loudly. "No, Dean, not spank him. Heaven has many ways of punishing the angels, but I think he was referring to the possibility of his angelic grace being taken away."

"Oh, that makes much more sense," Dean said. "Do you think Heaven will go for it?"

"We'll have to see."

"Guys," Charlie said, still focused on her computer screen. "Looks like Poseidon continues firing his bullets. Some of the coasts in Asia and Australia can't seem capable of keeping the sea in the ocean. Many casualties, to no surprise."

"Fuck," Dean muttered, running his hands through his hair. "What the hell's taking Heaven so long to make a move?"

"Maybe they don't want to," Charlie said suddenly.

"What?" Cas asked, narrowing his eyes on her.

Charlie shut her computer. "Well, everyone knows there's an apocalypse waiting to happen, right? Maybe the angels figured this would just save them the trouble. If they wanted to, they could just step back and let the gods take over."

"Doesn't seem likely," Cas said. "I've known two particular angels well enough to know what Heaven's way of working is like. You heard Anna, Dean; they don't want the ending to come ahead of time."

"I'm just saying," Charlie mumbled. "It seems reasonable to me."

Dean snorted. "I don't know what Heaven's capable of, but I do know that we might have the shot of killing two of the Greek soldiers, and whatever advantage that gives us, I'll take it."

In that instant, a sound of flapping of wings silenced any other conversation. Balthazar had arrived.

He wasn't much to look at, just a slightly bearded man with dirty blond hair in a long V-neck, but Dean wasn't here to criticize him, and he was to keep his anger on check because he wasn't allowed to lose control on him either.

Balthazar stood in front of the coffee table, staring down at Cas on the couch.

"Bonjour, Castiel," he said evenly.

Dean cleared his throat, coming to sit beside Cas on the couch.

"You must be Dean," Balthazar said coldly, with a clear look of disappointment. "Cas said very little about you."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Let's skip the small-talk. Where's the stuff we need?"

"Ah, yes," Balthazar said, his eyes casually turning to Charlie, who seemed too calm and collected, although this must have been her first time dealing with an angel. "Should this girl be in here?"

"Oh, yeah, don't mind me," Charlie said, picking at her fingernails. "Carry on."

"Right," Balthazar said, facing Cas again, smiling what Dean thought of as a sadistic grin. "You see, I might have forgotten to mention that my resources come with a price."

Dean tightened his fist, breathing hard to keep from launching himself onto the bastard.

"I should have seen this coming," Cas mumbled, running a hand over his face.

"My dear Castiel," Balthazar said, approaching him. "I'm not the bad guy here. I do still love you, believe it or not."

"Cut the crap!" Dean snapped, standing up so he could meet him to eye-level. Dean was taller, and suddenly braver. "If there's even a speck of dignity in your system, just hand us what we need and leave."

"Dean," Cas said, warningly, getting up to try to pull him back. Dean hadn't noticed how close he was to Balthazar.

"A dog that barks never bites," Balthazar said with his same sadistic smile. "My offer is one anyone in your position would kill for. Castiel was clear in telling me that if you do not get what weapons I have, you will surely be killed. It is not my intention to see my dear Castiel dead as a stone for the rest of time. What I am asking for is minimal, simply too low a price for what you're getting."

"Ha! You're not getting anything from us," Dean chided, but he felt Cas' hand on his shoulder, and as he turned to him, he noticed Castiel frowning.

"What exactly do you want?" Cas asked.

Balthazar grinned even wider. "Ahh, the million dollar question. Well, my usual price is a human soul, but I'm not interested in a new soul at the moment. I want Castiel."

"What?" Cas asked at the same time Dean hissed, "NO."

"Oh don't be such a prude, Castiel," Balthazar said, reaching a hand to Cas' hair, but thankfully, Cas moved away. Balthazar dropped his hand, not looking let down at all. "I don't want to keep you this time. As it happens, none of my lovers have been as magnificent as you, not a single one. I'm not asking for much, Castiel. Just one night, to relieve some stress, remember the good times."

Dean couldn't help himself from jumping at Balthazar, but before he could even get his hands around the bastard's neck, Dean was tossed to the kitchen, making him hit his head against the oven door. He felt everything spinning, but Castiel hadn't moved, he only watched Dean with concern, looking from Balthazar to him.

"Cas, don't do it," Dean said, attempting to get up, though he felt so dizzy he could hardly stand. "Shit, he almost knocked me unconscious."

"Well, Castiel?" Balthazar asked.

Dean walked back to the living room, fearing for Charlie once she got off of the couch and faced Balthazar.

"You've got some nerve," she said, and Dean wanted to stop her. He was the stupid one here, not her. "I knew angels were dicks, but I didn't know they were so pathetic. I mean, having to pay to get laid? What has the world done to you to make you stoop so low?"

"You impertinent little girl," Balthazar said, sounding oddly offended. "You weren't invited into this conversation."

"Oh, my most sincere apologies," she said sarcastically. "Let's talk business. I happen to have some very confidential information regarding that crooked deal you're planning on making with Heaven. See, you think you have it all worked out very well, but there are some things your pitiful, clogged brain doesn't allow you to see."

Dean sat on the couch because his head was throbbing.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked her, but Charlie held up a hand to silence him.

Balthazar's grin didn't fade from his face. "You know nothing."

"I actually know more than you can grasp," Charlie continued. "I've been doing my research, and damn good research if you ask me. You think Heaven is so eager to get their hands on your stupid weapons, but I wouldn't be too trusting if I were you. So, bring us what we'll need, and I'll be happy to share my information with you."

Balthazar looked at Cas and glared at Charlie, his grin completely gone. He was debating this, actually considering it. Finally, he turned to Charlie, standing straight. "Listen to me, little girl, if what you tell me is nothing more than bullshit, I will smite you."

Charlie seemed to falter at this, but not obviously enough. "You've got a deal." She extended her hand and Balthazar shook it.

"You dumbass!" Dean hissed at Charlie.

"I know what I'm doing," Charlie said, taking a deep breath. She turned to Balthazar. "Bring forth their stuff, then we can talk in private."

Balthazar snapped his fingers and a box appeared on the coffee table. He reached a hand to Charlie's forehead, but she wrapped a hand around his wrist before he could touch her.

"Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head. "No zapping me anywhere. I know angel tricks, don't think I'm stupid. Come to my place, I live next door."

"Charlie, no, you can't," Dean said, standing up, feeling slightly recovered.

Cas narrowed his eyes, but he didn't seem as worried as Dean. "He won't hurt her," Cas assured Dean, and Dean had no other choice but to believe him as Balthazar followed her outside.

Dean pulled out the contents of the box. There were two lab-looking goggles and a comparably small silver sword.

"That's it?" Dean said, feeling aggravated. "This is all we've been waiting for this entire time? It's a joke, isn't it?"

Cas inspected the sword, running his fingers over the scribbles at the bottom of the handle. "See here," Cas said, showing Dean the scribbles. "It's Enochian. I've seen this symbol before, marked on angel blades. The goggles have it, too, which I'm guessing are for seeing the Gorgons without turning into stone."

"And how are we gonna prove that theory, sweetheart?" Dean wondered, looking through the goggles, but they provided no x-ray vision, made no difference.

"We will have to go on trust," Cas said.

Dean chuckled humorlessly. "I trust you, Cas, but I don't trust that bastard. Can you believe him?"

"A dog that barks never bites," Cas repeated Balthazar's earlier words, and it made Dean sick.

"So, now that we have something to defend ourselves with when the time comes," Dean said, tossing the goggles back in the box. "How the hell are we going to find the rest of those bitches?"

"I don't know, Dean. I'm thinking."

And just like a sign from the heavens (the good part of it), Dean received a phone call, which at least served as a distraction. He didn't have this number saved into his phone, but he picked up, anyway.

"Yeah?"

"Dean?" an old familiar voice said at the other end of the line. "It's Bobby, you remember me, son?"

Dean gaped at Cas, his eyes going wide. "Uncle Bobby? Yeah, of course I remember you. Been a long time, huh?" Dean smiled. The thought of his "Uncle" Bobby used to be a positive one before his mother's death; he was the second man Dean ever looked up to. Bobby wasn't really his uncle, but the fact that he was an old family friend, and one hell of a guy, earned him the Uncle title.

"I'm calling 'cause, uh, a girl named Charlie got in touch with me last night," Bobby said. "Told me that, well, sadly, Adam was killed. I'm sorry, son. She also said that your daddy finally came to touch with the supernatural, and that you've been on the road with a hunter all this time."

Dean fell to the couch, with Cas to his side, listening close by. "I guess there's been a lot of changes lately we haven't told you about."

"Yeah, but that's not why I'm calling. You see, Charlie asked if I could help you defeat the Gorgon sisters, well, the ones left after you killed Medusa—good job, by the way. Anyway, I told her I would drive by to drop off what I came across after making a few calls, but as it turns out, it's not so easy to travel when you're in a wheelchair."

"Bobby you're in a wheelchair?" Dean asked, feeling that same strong guilt he'd stored at the back of his mind coming back to life. "When—How did this happen?"

"Long story, son," Bobby said grumpily. "I'd rather not waste time explaining right now. Seeing as we're running out of time, and you're being hunted down, I think it'd be wise for you to head on over to South Dakota. I found something to help you track down the Gorgons before they track you down. You remember how to get to my home, Dean?"

Dean remembered all the summers he spent in Bobby's rusty old junkyard, of course, how could he forget? "Yeah, Bobby, I'll be on my way. Thanks for your help."

"Sure thing, son. Oh, and if you still haven't gotten rid of Adam, I'm real sorry for your loss, Dean, you can tell John, too, but Adam has to be destroyed. I know this will be hard for all of you, but these Gorgons are capable of tracking down someone by the statues they create. If Adam's not destroyed, or moved away from your home, they will find you that much sooner."

Dean gulped, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the couch. "I understand, Bobby. And thanks again. I'll see you soon." Dean hung up.

"What did he say?" Cas asked, and Dean explained as he packed his things once again.

Charlie returned before Dean grew more anxious about her safety, and he was glad to see she was still in one piece.

She froze in the middle of the room, though, noticing Adam's statue, which was being moved by Dean and Cas into the backyard.

"What are you doing with him?" she said, putting her laptop down on the kitchen table. "Dean, your dad will kill you if he knows you're messing with Adam."

Dean wiped at the sweat on his forehead. "It's for the better."

Charlie huffed. "No it's not, Dean, put him back!"

"Charlie, the Gorgons will track you and John down if we don't get rid of Adam," Cas explained in a reasonable tone Dean lacked.

Charlie gulped, looking mortified and speechless. "But, that's all we have left of him…"

Dean sighed, wishing to prevent the tears from rolling down Charlie's cheeks, and she seemed to want the same, looking away from Adam. "He's not in here anymore," Dean said, although he'd considered that possibility before. "I don't think it's healthy for us to keep this, anyway. It stopped being Adam a long time ago."

Charlie looked up, gulping again, blinking so that she wouldn't cry. Dean wanted to hug her or something, but his feet weren't moving. "I'll give you a hand, come on," she said, holding Adam's midsection. "Where are putting him? In the backyard?"

Between the three of them, they were able to get Adam outdoors.

Dean felt that same strong urge to break down and cry from the night he found Adam dead. It was as though keeping Adam hidden away in the garage had been able to keep Dean sane all this time, because now that he was out right under the sunlight, Dean could see him better. He could see those features, the ones he inherited from his mother, more than from John.

Dean could see Adam's hopes being lost the moment he stared into Medusa's eyes. He could see the anguish Adam went through as his entire body froze, as he lost complete control of himself. And Adam was so young. He was heading to college. Dean was going to get him a car. Things were finally starting to look up for him. And Dean never truly got a chance to know his brother as much as he wanted to.

It was the worst feeling in the world, accepting that none of this mattered anymore, because nothing could change.

Cas handed each of them a hammer, and they all worked in breaking Adam into nothing but dust. Having to burn away the remains after wasn't as difficult, but it made it final.

They didn't speak to each during the process, they just shared a few awkward glances.

"How did you get away from Balthazar?" Cas asked Charlie, putting out the fire.

Charlie cleaned her face of the few stubborn tears that managed to escape her. "I told him my theory, and gave him an alternative solution to his problem. He left satisfied, but if that didn't work, I knew of the banishing symbol for angels, so I wasn't worried."

"That was still pretty risky," Dean mumbled, heading back inside. "You shouldn't have done that."

Charlie and Cas had followed him inside, and Cas closed the doors to the backyard and shut the blinds.

"You two clearly needed some help," she said, sighing. "Oh, I was meaning to call Bobby."

"He already called me," Dean said, pouring himself a glass of water. "Cas and I are about to hit the road. He found some kind of tracking device."

"You could have just used Adam as bait," Charlie pointed out. "If he can be tracked by them, then they would have found you eventually."

Dean shared a glance with Cas. "Hey, don't look at me, it was Bobby's idea. If he suggested it, must be for a reason."

Charlie shrugged. "He does have a point there. It's easier to attack the hunter when they don't know they're being hunted."

Dean didn't want to wait for John to get back home from work, so he said a quick goodbye to Charlie and got in the Impala with Cas. Their journey was far from over.

Halfway to Bobby's, Dean and Cas stopped at a diner for a quick meal. They waited on their greasy meals by playing staring contests with each other.

Cas finally lost it and laughed.

Dean smiled. "Just think about it, Cas, when all of this is over, we can find us the perfect fish and teach it some poetry."

"That might take a while," Cas said, perfectly serious. "But it should be doable."

"We can get us a fish tank."

"Dean, I'm not carrying around a fish tank in my car."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Are you never planning on staying off the road? I mean, don't you want a home?"

Cas shrugged casually. "I've never had the opportunity of having one, so I figured I should learn to live without that privilege."

"Well, that's going to change with me," Dean promised. "We're going to get a small house in the country, just for us and our fish."

Cas chuckled, rolling his eyes. "What else have you planned for our future?"

Dean leaned in closer across the booth table, speaking softly. "I don't have many details yet, but we will be very happy."

Cas blushed, but he didn't look away, he hardly ever did. "I believe you," he whispered.

Dean was forced to scoot back when their food arrived, and they ate in comfortable silence.

"Cas, will you tell me something?" Dean asked, eating the last of his fries.

"Anything you wish," Cas said, sipping his chocolate milkshake.

"Well," Dean said, scooting close again. "It's sort of a personal question, and I'm not sure you'll be okay talking about it."

Cas fixed his eyes on Dean, but he didn't seem bothered by any of this. "Go on."

"You told me about your dad passing away," Dean continued. "But you never said what happened to your mother. In fact, you've never mentioned her before." He lifted a shoulder. "I'm a little curious if I still have a mother-in-law."

Cas put down his milkshake and hid his hands away under the table. "I've never told anyone about my mother," Cas mumbled too quickly, Dean could barely grasp it.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Dean said hurriedly. Last thing he wanted was to force Cas to do anything.

"She abandoned my dad a few months after she gave birth to me," Cas blurted out, his eyes still on Dean. "I don't even know her name. My dad never talked about her, but my brothers told me after they got annoyed with me asking them. They weren't that much older, but they remember her. I don't think she was a good person, though I haven't had the need to investigate any further."

Dean dropped the fry in his hand and cleaned his fingers with a napkin so he could hold Castiel's face. "I—"

Cas smiled sideways. "You don't have to apologize on her behalf. My dad raised me all by himself. He was all I ever needed."

Until he was violently taken away from you, Dean thought. He leaned closer to kiss him, just once, a kiss that Cas returned eagerly. Sometimes, Dean learned, actions were easier to understand that words.

"I love you," Cas confessed, and Dean didn't freak out because he already knew this. It took a psychic to remove the rest of his blindfold, but he could finally see.

Dean kissed him again, soft and simple. "I love you, too."

Cas pulled into the junkyard just before eleven at night. Dean felt proud of himself for guiding Cas correctly to Bobby's after so many years of avoiding this place. It was just as he'd last seen it. Well, the important parts. Like the acres filled with broken down vehicles, the smell of rusty nails and dirt, Bobby's old house all the way at the end.

They got out of the Impala and headed up to the house. Bobby rolled out of the house in a wheelchair, with a knife in one hand and a shotgun in the other. Bobby put the knife down and clicked on the shotgun.

"Bobby?" Dean said, perplexed.

"Prove it's you, Dean," Bobby ordered, offering him the knife he'd been carrying.

Dean made no effort of taking the knife, so Cas grabbed it. Dean watched with wide eyes as Cas cut on his forearm, making himself bleed. Cas looked at Dean carefully as he took hold of his arm and Dean nodded his permission, still startled, but Cas made a similar cut on him, too.

"What's this for?" Dean asked, ripping part of his shirt to tie it around the cut.

Bobby offered them a flask rather than a reply. Cas was the first to drink from it, and when Dean took a sip, he realized it was just water.

"Dean." Bobby nodded, a hint of a smile growing on his lips, stretching his grayish beard. "It's good to see you, son."

Dean couldn't help but smile, moving closer to Bobby. "I'm not sure what just happened, but hell, I'm glad to see you, too, Bobby."

"Safety measures," Bobby said, looking at Cas. "I thought your hunter friend would have showed you this by now."

"Oh," Dean said, feeling embarrassed. "Bobby, this is Castiel. Cas, meet Uncle Bobby."

"Nice to meet you," Cas said, shaking Bobby's hand, and Bobby grunted in return.

Bobby led the way inside the house, and Dean took in the sight of the large junkyard he used to love getting lost in as a kid. It was perfect for hide-and-seek, even though Adam had been too young to play at the time, but Dean had always managed to do things alone.

The inside of the house was kept nearly the same as Dean had last seen it. Except—and Dean didn't know this was possible—there were more books stacked on the floor. Dean always found Bobby's wide variety of books interesting, but Bobby never seemed too keen on letting Dean read them, so he learned to stay away.

Bobby came to a halt near on the living room, where there was a half empty bottle of tequila on one of the small tables. Bobby took it, gave it a drink and offered it to Dean.

Dean took a sip, not wanting to be rude, and handed it to Cas, who did the same.

"I've been looking through my books," Bobby said, staring at the patterns on the wall behind Dean. "Read a lot about them Gorgons. Found a lot of things that might be good to know, but I think you should get a good night's sleep tonight 'cause you'll have a long day tomorrow."

Dean felt tired, but not as much as he should. He wanted to get this over with already. Still, he didn't think arguing with Bobby would do them any good.

"Sounds like a plan," Dean said.

"Where can we sleep?" Cas wondered, looking around the house.

Dean wanted to smile because he was so used to Cas making himself at home just about anywhere.

"I got the basement furnished before I lost my legs," Bobby grunted. "Can't make any use of it myself no more, so you can take it. I'm sure there's enough room for the two of you."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said, watching Cas make his way to the open door that looked like the sure-way of getting to the basement.

"Yeah, yeah," Bobby grumbled.

"Good night," Dean called, following after Cas.

Cas sat on the bed of the well-furnished basement. There was even a TV, but Dean didn't feel like turning it on because Cas was on the bed, watching him intently.

Dean realized that Cas had seen him naked before, but Dean had never had the pleasure. And maybe it was too soon because Dean had just gotten out of his relationship, and they were just barely learning to be themselves freely. But there was always the if between them, and Cas seemed to know this as well.

If they fought tomorrow, and failed (because no one could be so lucky to survive all three of the Gorgon sisters), then all their plans would crumble and vanish, just like Adam's.

If Anna and the rest of the angels didn't succeed, if Balthazar refused to return the weapons, if Heaven decided to step back from the fight, the apocalypse would destroy their world, taking them along.

If they died tomorrow, or the following week, they would miss the opportunity to indulge in their recently proclaimed love for each other.

Dean had never been much of a "romantic" but he couldn't think of anything more than Castiel right now. Fuck the end of the world, the Gorgons, the narcissistic gods and the rest of their monsters. Tonight, it was just them two. Dean and Castiel.

Cas, fuck, Cas was always in sync with him. He got up and out of the bed, just to pull Dean by the hand, sitting him on the bed. Cas climbed on his lap, looked into his eyes a long time before attacking him with kisses. His lips trailed from Dean's lips, down his jaw to his ear, then down his neck. Dean gave a slight shiver when he felt teeth and tongue added in the mixture.

Cas was rocking his hips against Dean while his hands worked to remove his jacket, the one that originally belonged to Cas but Dean never gave back. Dean helped to ease Cas out of his own clothes, and sooner than he expected, they were both shirtless. Every time Dean felt Cas pressing against him, he moaned with pleasure because they were both so fucking hard by now, and Castiel's tongue moved with excitement inside his mouth.

Even though they were both pretty turned on, none of it was hazy or jerky. Cas was so careful with Dean, still treating him like the breakable priceless amulet, like something he wanted to protect. Cas pushed himself closer to Dean so he would fall back and they would land on the mattress, never once breaking off of their kiss.

Cas' open mouth traveled down the same pattern as before, but this time, he kept moving lower and lower. Dean gasped breathlessly and dug his fingernails into Castiel's shoulders when he felt his tongue working circles on his right nipple, and then moving onto the left one.

"Mmm, baby," Dean breathed when Cas unzipped his jeans and pulled them down easily. Cas was chewing on his lower lip and grinning. Dean's boxer briefs came off next, and he was being spread open very delicately, Castiel sitting in between his legs, with a warm hand wrapped around his cock that sent a wave of pleasure throughout Dean's body.

"I've got you, Dean," Cas said roughly, his hand running up and down on Dean's cock, giving small kisses on the soft skin inside Dean's thigh. "I trust you."

Dean's heart thrum so fast he was almost sure it would gain enough momentum to snap out of his chest. "I love you," Dean whispered, making Cas give his cock a light squeeze.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could compare to the delicious feeling of Cas' mouth swallowing him whole. This was proof enough that Heaven existed. Cas stared up at him, observing Dean's every reaction, but Dean was giving a fucking show. He was moaning, groaning, and savoring every bit of what he was getting as he bit at his lip.

Cas moved away, and Dean whimpered at the coldness that was left in him. Cas smiled down at Dean, sitting up on Dean's lap and removing his own pants. Cas struggled to free his feet from his jeans, so he fell on top of Dean, resulting in an eruption of laughter. Cas was finally completely naked, and he was kissing Dean again. This was just as great because Dean got to pull on Cas' hair.

"I have condoms," Cas muttered into Dean's mouth. "And lube."

Dean's eyes widened and his breathing quickened. "Okay."

Cas chuckled, cupping Dean's face. "I got it for us, dumbass. It's all brand new."

Dean smiled and kissed him again. "Go get them."

Cas climbed off of Dean and dug through his duffle bag, which he'd tossed to the side of the bed. When he got on the bed again, he gave Dean a curious look and handed him the lube and the condom. He said nothing more as he sprawled on the bed beside Dean, waiting patiently.

And hell, Dean had rarely ever been offered something so wonderful in his life. He sat up, put the condom on and spread a lot of lube in his fingers. Cas opened his legs, a pair of soft blue eyes staring up at Dean with so much affection that Dean could feel himself disintegrating ever so slowly.

Dean scooted closer, settling himself between Cas' legs. Dean held one on his knees as he gently slipped a finger into Cas' opening, ensuing a beautiful moan from him. He pushed his finger deeper into Cas, leaning forward so he could kiss him before his next moan. Cas gripped onto Dean's hair, not wanting to let him go.

"More?" Dean said.

Cas gulped, breathing hard. "More."

Dean placed a second finger into Cas, and the man began moving, up and down, with both of Dean's fingers stroking his insides. Dean placed a third finger in, that stole a loud gasp from Castiel.

"Dean, I need you," Cas begged, his lower lip trembling, but Dean kissed it until it stopped. "I need you so much."

Dean removed all of his fingers and soon after, replaced them with his cock. He was careful, not wanting to hurt Cas, but Cas didn't seem hurt at all. There was a shift on his face, from the calm, smiley Cas he knew, to something more raw, undone. Cas pulled Dean closer, and Dean fell completely inside Castiel, emitting a loud joyous groan from the both of them.

Cas was the first to start moving, desperately, so much that Dean was taken by surprise, but he managed to follow his pace. Cas bit at Dean's shoulder, and that combined, with the tight, hot feeling of being inside Castiel should have made him come, but he still didn't, he was close. Dean took hold of Castiel's neglected dick, and Cas rolled his eyes to his forehead for a second, his body squirming underneath him.

Dean held onto Cas' hips as his thrusts became unsteady. Cas bit at his neck this time, and that was the last thing Dean's brain recognize before the only feeling he recognized was delight. Cas kissed him, but Dean was in such a blissful state that he only smacked his puckered lips against Cas, like an inexperienced child.

They continued kissing, pressing against each other, for another moment, until he was made aware of Castiel's cock that still needed release, so Dean crawled back to that space between his legs and took him in his mouth.

Cas let out a set of raspy breaths, that soon turned into whimpers, and Dean could taste him already. Surely enough, Cas came into his mouth a few seconds later, moaning so loud that he wanted to laugh. Cas made the best sex noises.

It was so quiet after, aside from their breathing, but that started to slow, too. Dean laid his head on Cas' extended arm and wrapped his leg and arm on top of Cas. When they cooled off enough, they got under the covers in a perfect cocoon of their making.

For a guy who was so against spooning at a time, Dean was sure a heck of a spoon.


	7. The Fight

It was late. Dean had forgotten what it felt like to oversleep, but more importantly, to wake up next to a sleeping Castiel, who was hiding well under the covers. The only part uncovered was his messy bed hair. It was just the perfect measure to pull on it, so Dean did.

Cas groaned, slapping his hand away and turning on his back, which only served to make Dean chuckle.

"You can't still be tired, Cas," Dean said, already rolling out of bed and scavenging the room for his clothes. "We gotta get this over with so we can move on to happy, better things. Remember our fish? Let's get to work."

"Do you always talk this much in the mornings?" Cas said, removing all the covers to reveal his naked self underneath.

"I'll meet you upstairs for breakfast?" Dean said, leaning over to plant a kiss to Cas' forehead. "Most important meal of the day."

Cas sighed and made his way out of bed just as Dean walked up the stairs.

Bobby appeared to be drinking coffee in the living room with a heavy book in his lap. Dean felt immediately guilty for some reason, seeing him in daylight and after the use he'd given to Bobby's basement.

"What are you standing there for, idjit?" Bobby mumbled, flipping a page on his book. "We've got work to do."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just waiting for Cas to, uh, get some breakfast."

"Son," Bobby said, looking up from the book. He looked tired. "What you're about to do is highly dangerous. More than a trained hunter could sustain. If you decide to take the easy road and hide from the Gorgons, I'd be the last one to judge you."

For a second, Dean didn't know what to say, so he just looked at Bobby. He'd missed this old man more than he acknowledged. "I just don't think I'm that person, Bobby" Dean said finally. "I couldn't run away. I can't leave this unfinished."

"I knew you'd say that, which is why I got everything prepared."

After Cas left the basement, and ate some of Bobby's burned toast and boiled eggs for breakfast, they sat down for business in Bobby's office. The sight of Cas on the seat next to him, the knowledge that Cas was in this mess with Dean, gave him strength. He was ready for whatever would happen.

"I got this from Bela, some crooked thief I've known for years," Bobby said, picking up a box from the ground. "It's a GPS for the supernatural." Bobby pulled out a rectangle-shaped piece of stone. "Some would also call it a tablet."

Dean was beyond exhausted of seeing so much stone, but he took it when Bobby handed it to him. "It looks like a rock."

"Don't be snarky, boy," Bobby said, giving him a look. "It's worth a fortune. Comes from Egypt. All you need to do is hold it with both hands and think of the monster you want to hurt."

"And then what?" Cas wondered.

Bobby sighed. "Then a set of instructions will guide you to it."

Dean stared at the piece of stone skeptically. He was already holding it in both hands, so he tried concentrating on the Gorgons, but nothing happened. "It's defective," Dean said, giving it to Cas.

Bobby grumbled incoherently, but Cas glanced at the stone in deep concentration. Dean watched as Castiel's eyes grew wider, his mouth parting just slightly.

"It's working?"

Cas nodded, offering the stone back to Dean, but Dean still couldn't see anything.

"You don't have to lie to me, Cas."

"I'm not," Cas snapped, pulling the stone back to himself. "There are directions carved into this stone and we're going to follow them."

Dean gaped at Bobby. "What the hell?"

Bobby poured himself a glass of liquor. "Only works for one person at a time."

"Okay, so where is the finish line?" Dean asked. "I mean, can't we skip over the directions and just go where they are?"

Cas frowned. "It doesn't say. We'll just have to follow them wherever they take us."

"It's always the same, huh? Following the blind."

Cas scowled at Dean as Bobby proceeded to share the necessary information they might lack about Stehno and Euryale.

"They will try to lure you in to them," Bobby continued. "Protective goggles or not. See, not all their power comes from their eyes. You're just gonna have to try to resist temptation."

"You mean, like, seduce me?" Dean said, incredulous. "I doubt that'll work on me."

Bobby rolled his eyes, looking tired. "Son, quit being an idjit and just listen to me. These goggles you brought, they look like the real deal. But I'm afraid the only protection they'll offer is not getting you turned to stone like your brother."

"Will they be together?" Cas asked Bobby, a worried crease on his forehead.

Bobby looked from Dean to Cas. "Stheno and Euryale don't travel alone. You're gonna have to share that sword and use it wisely."

Cas turned to Dean, frowning. "We should get our things and go."

Dean nodded, unable to say much more than goodbye to Bobby.

It was the most ridiculous thing, but Cas refused to let Dean drive, despite having to glance at the tablet on his lap for directions. Dean didn't want to admit how hurt he was that after what they'd recently been through, what they'd recently said to each other, Cas couldn't trust Dean with his car.

"It's not that, Dean," Cas said as he peered another glance to the tablet and drove at a steady pace.

"Then what the fuck is your problem? I'm a good driver."

Cas sighed, switching lanes on the freeway. "That's not what this is about."

"Then tell me!" Dean snapped, though the last thing he wanted was to fight with Cas at this moment.

"Dean, this car belonged to my dad. Before he died, he gave it to me. Michael and Gabriel were never okay with this decision. After my dad died, they tried to take it from me, but I would always keep the keys with me. I would even hide the car in other places. It wasn't even about the Impala anymore. It was the fact that my dad's most beloved possession was given to me, not to Michael or Gabriel. In my family, that was a shocking outcome, especially because Michael was the favorite, and Gabriel made dad proud.

"I was just the youngest one," Cas continued. "I had nothing going for me. I still don't."

Dean stared at Cas, though Cas wasn't looking back at him. He wanted to tell Cas how wrong he was, but he didn't know how to get those words out without sounding like a unicorn. "Can I at least hold the tablet for you?"

Cas grinned, handing Dean the tablet on his lap. "I have to keep driving south. We're almost to Nebraska."

"What if they know we were in Kansas? My dad and Charlie might not be safe."

"Dean," Cas started, calmly. "We got rid of the evidence."

Dean frowned, not feeling any better. "Where the hell is Anna?"

"Did you call?" Anna said from the backseat, startling Dean.

Cas didn't seem fazed about her sudden visit, he was still smiling. "Hello, Anna."

"Shit, do you enjoy doing that?" Dean said, shifting on his seat to get a better look at her. He felt immediately relieved to see half a smile on her face.

"I thought I should give you the news," Anna said. "Crowley finally caved and agreed to join our side on the war. He's also allowing us access to Hell."

"Really?" Cas said, glancing to the tablet Dean held in front of him.

"Who's Crowley?" Dean wondered.

"King of hell," Anna responded.

Dean nodded, picturing a nasty-looking man sitting on a throne with a fire-blazing crown and a pitch fork. "And how did you make that happen?"

"Well, I had some help," she said, scooting forward. "Michael informed me that a lot more monsters are roaming the earth, killing off everyone in their paths. Crowley is losing many clients, and it's all barely starting. So, he agreed to help us detour the rest of them to Hell. After it all falls over, we will go back to destroying as many demons as possible."

"What about the weapons?" Cas asked, keeping his eyes on the road. "Did Balthazar hand them over?"

Anna looked confused. "Charlie didn't tell you?" When neither of them replied, she continued. "She told Balthazar what would happen if Heaven allows earth to be claimed by members of another universe. She informed him of the prophecy that claimed all angels were to be banned from Heaven if the angels failed to protect the earth."

Cas shared a quick glance with Dean as he took the next exit. "How the hell did she know all of this?

"Because she's a prophet," Anna said easily. "I thought you knew."

"Charlie?" Dean said, in case he'd heard wrong. "My Charlie?"

Anna looked at Dean, seriously. "Charlie Bradbury, Prophet of the Lord, yes."

"But she never mentioned it to me," Dean said, frowning.

"She's only known for a month," Anna said.

Cas pulled up into a gas station. "I'm not surprised. I should have known." Then he turned to Dean with a smile. "Want anything?" Dean shook his head, so Cas got out of the car.

"Dean," Anna said. Dean turned to her, feeling a little stunned from the previous news. "You were able to defeat Medusa. I believe you will do the same with her sisters. If they hadn't left their universe yet, we would have taken them down with the rest of them."

"When is the fight?" Dean asked.

Anna looked ahead of her. Cas was walking back out of the store. "Tonight. I'm trying to figure out how to tell Michael that he won't be able to join me."

"He wants to fight?"

Anna smiled. "He says he can. It's sweet, really. I'm trying to avoid him right now. I don't think I'll return to him until it's all over."

"Well, he should be glad he's not being chased by a couple of sadistic Gorgons," Dean said.

"I'm sure he'd rather be doing something," Anna said, and there was a look in her eyes Dean didn't like. "Would you, maybe, consider—?"

"Oh, come on! I don't want him around," Dean groaned. "No offense, okay? But your boyfriend's a dick. He hates me. I told him I didn't want him involved in this, and I'm not going to go begging for him now."

"He doesn't hate you," Anna mumbled. She knew it was true. "Look," she whispered, looking out the window where Cas was pumping gas into the Impala. "He's worried about Cas. He thinks you're just using him, like Balthazar."

"What?" Dean hissed. Only Michael would compare him to that asshole.

Anna shushed him. "Dean, you need backup. I can make you invisible again."

Cas got back in the car, then, taking in the tension by the look on his face. "Did someone die?"

"We only have one sword, Anna," Dean said defensively. "Cas and I can handle it."

"Michael is willing to help you destroy Medusa's sisters," Anna explained. "But Dean is being stubborn."

"Dean," Cas said, sounding stern and pleading at the same time.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine. Okay. We'll babysit your boyfriend while you're away. Just don't bring the other one."

"Gabriel is actually having a few last-night-on-earth hook-ups as we speak," Anna said. "I will pop Michael right in. And please don't insinuate that you're babysitting him. He's already angry with me."

Anna returned just as Cas got back on the road, this time with a pouting Michael at her side.

"I'll be listening," Anna said, and then she was gone.

Michael didn't say much the rest of the trip; he just lied on the backseat and stared out the window. All he needed was sad music in the background, Dean thought.

A few hours later, Cas looked up at Dean, a smile spreading across his face. Dean sat up on the seat of the car, becoming alert.

"What is it?"

"There's only one more line of direction," Cas said. "We're almost there."

Dean glanced back at the tablet, unable to see anything, but he trusted Castiel. "I guess we should get ready."

"We're in Falls City, Nebraska," Cas said, reading the sign that welcomed them into the city. "I'm supposed to pass four street lights and turn right. Then it's over."

"Okay." Dean nodded, stiffening. "I got the goggles. We just have to figure out how Michael will stay protected."

Michael made a protesting noise from the backseat. "I can handle myself, Dean. I have a pair of those, too. And an invisibility jar, just one, for myself."

"Great," Dean said through his teeth. No one said anything as they passed the first two lights, which were both red, allowing them to wait motionless.

Dean checked the time. It was six in the afternoon. The day was hot and humid. People in their cars looked rushed, some just looked bored. That's when Dean realized that not so long ago—barely two weeks ago—he was one of them. He was a normal guy with a normal life. His biggest concern was getting to work on time.

Meanwhile, Castiel, Michael and even Gabriel were out hunting these monsters that endanger people's lives and saving them. There was a whole community, no matter how small, of hunters. People who gave their lives up, along with normalcy, to allow those like Dean, Director of Sales & Marketing, to continue living in a perfect pretend-polite-smiles-and-relationships world.

And it occurred to Dean that this is where he wanted to be. That, despite of giving up his usual way of life, he was satisfied with his decision of being here, doing what he should be doing—no, what he wanted to do. He knew how to fight, now. He wasn't scared of getting his clothes dirty, or shooting a gun.

He was an entirely new person, and he liked it. He was bold and brave and he said "I love you" to Cas after just one day of being together and he was happy. If death waited for him in their destination, then he would go happy and fulfilled. This is what he was born to do.

But if they were able to live through this, he would take Cas away for a while, give him a thousand reasons to keep living despite the darkness surrounding his life. Dean was going to love Castiel so much that he would be unable to remember all the pain he went through before coming into Dean's life. Dean owed him everything, and Cas seemed completely unaware as he made the last turn that would take them to the fighting field.

The road they travelled on after the last turn was desolate. The road was filled with dirt and rocks rather than smooth cement. Up ahead, there were signs announcing a construction zone, blocking the rest of the way. Cas parked the car when he'd gone as far as the road allowed and cut the engine.

Michael was the first to exit the car, and he made sure to slam the door behind him.

Cas stared at Dean before leaning in to press his lips to Dean's in the softest way. Dean pressed Cas' head closer, breathing him in. "I'm sorry," Cas whispered into his mouth.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Dean replied tenderly. "We can do this, Cas. Listen to me, we can do this. Together."

"Together," Cas mumbled, pulling away.

Dean and Cas took out the sword from the trunk, and pulled out his own gun, just to feel a little stronger.

Michael was walking past the construction site, hastily. He had his pair of goggles on, but Dean still thought they looked a little ridiculous to be useful. He put them on, anyway, for good measure, and so did Cas.

Cas turned to Dean. He looked amusing in his pair. "Ready?"

Dean smiled shortly. "As ready as I'll ever be. Let's go."

Dean and Cas followed Michael on the road. The ground was filled with holes, and there were only woods on both sides of the road. There was nowhere else to go but forward, so that's where they went.

After a couple more minutes walking, Michael came to a halt in front of a three story building. The place looked like it hadn't been used in years, and it reeked from outside.

Michael looked back to Cas. "Got some pliers with you? Door's chained up."

"In the car," Cas said, already turning to walk away, when the chain broke off from the door. Cas turned back around. Dean watched the door, carefully, expecting something to come walking out.

"You think it's a trap?" Dean asked.

Michael reached for the door handle. It was a clear door, but it was so dirty that it had fogged the view inside. "Step back," he said.

Dean gave a few steps back as Michael pushed the door open. He pulled a flashlight out from his jacket and illuminated the dark room inside. When he stepped inside, Dean and Cas followed after him. Dean tried to walk beside Michael, not wanting to give him the lead.

Inside, the place was empty, aside from the set of rats that scattered away with the flashlight. The floors were sticky, and with every step, a creaking noise echoed through the room. The smell of mildew and dead rodents filled the air.

Somewhere in another room, Dean heard a desperate sob. They rounded the corner, only to find another empty room.

"Over here," Cas said, and once Michael flashed his light on whatever Cas was pointing to, Dean could see it was the door that led to the stairs. "We should move. They know we're here."

Dean gulped as he followed Cas up the stairs. The only light came from Michael's flashlight. Dean felt like an idiot for not carrying one himself.

Cas stopped in front of the door for the second floor, raising the sword in his hands, nodding to the handle. Dean gripped the doorknob, turning it slowly, and then Cas kicked the door open.

Dean froze at the sight in the room. There were people; hostages. Two of them were tied to chairs, while the other three had their wrists and ankles tied on the floor. All of them had their mouths covered, muffling their urgent sobs. Dean reacted again once he saw Cas and Michael hurrying to set them free.

Dean walked to one of the girls on the floor, fidgeting with the tight ropes around them. His hands were shaking and his moves were rough. The girl was weeping, but she seemed to gain control by staring into Dean's eyes.

"It's okay," Dean murmured, removing the rag from her mouth. The girl breathed loudly, and then she coughed as Dean continued breaking off the ropes. When he was done, he helped her to her feet. "You okay?"

Dean noticed she was bleeding from her neck and shoulders. There were patches of red all over her body. Something twisted inside him, he was filled with rage.

"Dean, we have to keep moving," Cas said. "Michael's going to take them some place safe."

Dean nodded, looking back to the girl. Her tears welled up with tears again as she draped her arms once around him. He was so taken by surprise that he found himself motionless again.

"Thank you," she breathed into his ear before letting go. She hurried to move along with the rest of the hostages who were descending on the stairs.

Cas moved past Dean, back to the stairs, but he ascended instead. Dean caught up to him. When they reached the third and last floor, Cas turned to him, a serious look on his face.

"Only one of us can take this to become invisible," Cas muttered, pulling out the small familiar container. "Don't argue with me, Dean. You're taking it." He handed him the sword along with the bottle. "Take this, too."

Dean blinked at Cas, realizing what he was going to do. "Don't you remember what happened to Pam when she was in your place? And it was only one of them, easier to kill. You can't be serious, Cas!"

Cas glared at Dean. "Dean, I will force that down your throat."

Dean glowered back. "Fine. I'll just keep you safe. Just please, don't do anything stupid." Dean sighed before inhaling the contents of the bottle. Once he was invisible, Castiel opened the door.

"Welcome!"

Dean walked beside Cas, knowing his sixty seconds had started. He recognized the Gorgon that had spoken to be Euryale; she had huge violet eyes, illuminated by the fire in the middle of the room. A headless body floated above the fire, though it remained unharmed by the touch of the flames. Dean made a quick assessment, guessing it was Medusa.

"We knew you would come eventually," the other Gorgon, Stheno, said. The sisters stood side by side, and Dean wasted no more time as he made a beeline for the Gorgon closest to him—Euryale. He raised his sword (hoping the angle would work since he couldn't see the weapon), and just as he was about to cut the sword through her head, his entire body stilled without his permission.

It wasn't a reaction to fear. Although he was afraid, he knew he wasn't supposed to stop. Someone was doing this to him. He couldn't even move his eyes, as they were staring straight at the violet-eyed Gorgon.

Euryale laughed, her eyes scanning at the direction where Dean was, still invisible, though he knew not by much longer. "I'm afraid I can't be as easily fooled as my dear sister. Now, where exactly are you, insect?"

Dean swallowed, feeling his sweat drip from his forehead. He regained his color at once. The sword was just inches from both of the Gorgon's throats. Dean heard a gasp, which he guessed came from Cas.

Euryale and Stheno stepped back from the sharp object, looking humored. Stheno forced the sword from Dean's hands, and he was glad to see her struggle to remove it from his tight grip, though she succeeded eventually.

"Well," Euryale said, pacing around Dean. "I think it is time for us to formally meet."

"Hmm," Stheno said, walking toward Cas, though Dean couldn't follow her with his eyes.

Euryale was suddenly right in front of Dean. Her deep violet eyes staring directly into Dean's while the snakes on her head hissed. He felt a few of them bite into his neck. "Won't you tell me your name?"

In that instant, Dean regained the ability to move, and he dropped his arms to his sides. He turned to where he knew Cas would be, and resisted the urge to scream once he saw that Stheno had him pinned against the wall, moving the sword close to his neck.

"Your name, insect?" Euryale pushed, clutching Dean's chin, fighting for eye-contact. "Why is it that you are still not a piece of stone?"

Dean realized they couldn't see their goggles, which was their only advantage at the moment. He held his breath as he felt her hand pet his hair. Euryale tied her fingers through his hair, gripping at it until Dean winced from the pain.

"Name!" she cried. The serpents in her head hissed.

"Dean," he said, panting. "My name is Dean."

Euryale tossed him on the floor with force. She placed a high-heeled shoe on his neck. Dean knew he was gambling his life, but he tossed her foot away, which only made her grin sadistically.

"Why don't you tell me where exactly you put my sister's head?" Euryale asked, bending down close to Dean. "Listen—Dean—I know you're a smart guy. You will die whether you tell me this or not, but you can still decide from a painful death or a quick one."

Dean sat up, nose-to-nose with Euryale and her hungry set of snakes. "We don't have it anymore."

Cas let out the most agonizing, hair-raising scream Dean had ever heard from anyone. He turned to him, alert. Stheno appeared to be drinking from his blood. Her face was buried in his naked chest, and as Dean focused his vision, he could see two large fangs deep inside his chest.

Dean stood immediately, rushing to his side, but Euryale caught him from behind. Her arms were wrapped around him, enclosing him close to her own chest, while Dean continued watching Castiel getting viciously tortured, struggling to free himself. Suddenly, though, Euryale started humming in his ear, the snakes eased off. Dean could still see Castiel, writhing in pain underneath Stheno, but he no longer felt the urge to save him. Euryale was cradling him in her arms and Dean relaxed into her embrace. He couldn't explain what had caused this sudden change in him, and he wasn't capable of analyzing the situation. All he knew was that, slowly but surely, he was willingly dozing off.

"Dean!" Cas shouted, the sound filled with pain and rage and everything in between. "Dean, wake up! Dean! Please, Dean. I_ need_ you."

Dean's eyes bulged open. He could see Cas through his haze, see him groaning in pain, watching him with his last bits of hope. Dean could still hear his voice in his head.

_Please, Dean. I need you._

Dean clenched his fists, straightening up his back and escaping from Euryale's hold. She shrieked in response, a sound that pierced his ears again and again. He breached the space between him and Cas, taking the sword from Stehno's hand. She was so preoccupied indulging in Cas' blood that she let it slip out of her hand with ease. Then he pulled her away from Cas, her long fangs were so encrusted in him that he had to be careful not to cut through his chest. He saw her sharp red eyes right before the sword cut through her neck and her head rolled on the floor.

"Dean!" Cas yelled again. Before he could turn around, he felt two sharp objects fall into the back of his neck, causing his knees to tremble in anguish. Cas took the sword from him and soon the fangs were removed from his neck and he could breathe again.

When he turned around, he saw the second head at his feet and Castiel bent down to stab at it multiple times, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Dean's knees finally gave out, and he fell to the floor. He stared up at the dark ceiling before the lights went out.

Before Dean's eyes fluttered open, he took notice of his extremely sore neck. He felt every bump on the road as the Impala—he recognized the smell of the leather seats—drove him somewhere. It hurt to move his neck, but he made his best efforts to turn to the driver's seat. Michael was behind the wheel, his face hard and serious as he stared out to the road.

"Cas," Dean groaned, his throat feeling dry. "Where's Cas?"

Michael turned to him; an unfamiliar look of concern crossed his face before he looked back at the road. "He's lying in the backseat. Lost a lot of blood."

Dean shifted on the seat so as to not bend his neck completely to look behind him. Cas was sprawled across the seat, his arms dangling off the seat, looking weak and pale. He stared at his bleeding chest, though it looked like Michael had attempted to bandage him. He waited to see if he could see the rising and sinking of his chest, something to show he was alive, but he had to stay pretty still to notice any movement.

"Will he make it?" Dean asked, looking out the windshield. He dreaded the answer Michael could give him.

"I'm hoping the doctors will determine that," Michael said. "We're almost to the nearest hospital. The one in Falls City was full."

Neither of them spoke again, until Michael pulled up at the hospital. Dean offered to help, but Michael was able to pick Cas up in his arms and take him inside.

Dean watched as Cas was taken away in a gurney, his head was pounding again.

Michael watched him for a moment. "You should get your neck checked. I don't think they were venomous, or you would be dead by now, but you might need stitches."

Dean reached his hand to the back of his neck, feeling for his open wounds, but instead felt they were patched up with something. "Did you do this?"

Michael nodded, looking down. "Sorry I couldn't come back faster. I made sure everyone went into the police department and that they were looked after."

"Hey, at least you made it back," Dean said. "Seriously, thanks."

Michael didn't respond as he went to sit in one of the chairs in the waiting room. Dean joined him. His mind, for the first time, wondered how the inevitable war between the Greek gods against Heaven and Hell was going. He knew Michael was probably just as worried about Anna as he was about Cas.

"They got weapons, you know," Dean said, looking at his own feet. "And a big army." He felt Michael shifting uncomfortably on his side.

"I know," Michael said quietly.

When the doctor returned to them, he told them Cas had to stay overnight so he could recover properly. And after assuring Dean over and over again that Cas was definitely going to be fine, Dean let him walk away.

"At least they weren't venomous," Michael said, reassuringly, sitting back down.

"Lucky us."

Cas was back on his feet the next morning, and Dean and Michael still had heard nothing about the Big Fight. Dean had fallen asleep on the chair in Castiel's room, and so his neck was suffering even more in the light of the day.

"You ready to go?" Dean asked, as Cas got in a new set of clothes. "When Michael gets back we should be able to leave."

"I am," Cas said dryly. "Where are my shoes?"

Dean moved the shoes close to his feet, helping him put them on, but Cas pushed Dean away. "I can do it. Let me do it." Dean stood back as Cas struggled putting on his shoes.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked for the tenth time.

He received the same response. "Fine."

Michael walked in the room minutes later, announcing that the doctor said Cas was free to go. Michael offered to drive since Cas was injured, and he agreed, much to Dean's shock.

Dean felt himself relax as they entered Kansas City. They were close to home. His home. He would be able to sleep all day if he wanted to.

And just as suddenly as she'd always appeared, Anna sat beside him on the backseat. She assessed all three of them, starting with Michael.

"You are all alive and not seriously damaged, so I can finally claim that we won," she said.

Dean stared at her, dumbstruck. Anna smiled back to him, wide and peaceful—like an angel.

Michael let out a joyful laugh, no sign from his previous coldness towards Anna was shown as he turned around quickly to grin at her.

"That's great news," Cas said weakly. There was something about him that made Dean restless.

"Dean, you and Cas were immensely valiant in your fight," Anna said, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. "Let me heal your neck." She moved her hand to his neck, and suddenly, the pain was gone and so were the wounds.

"How—?"

"Heaven took me back," she said with a smirk. "I'm back, Michael."

Michael glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "I knew they wouldn't reject you after everything you went through."

Anna leaned forward on the seat. She touched her hand to Cas, too, healing him. "You will be okay, Castiel."

Cas thanked her, but said nothing more.

Once they arrived at Dean's apartment building, Anna zapped Michael away with her, while he and Cas went up to his place.

"We really did it, Cas," Dean said, looking excitedly at Cas, but Cas stared at the elevator doors. When it clicked open, he exited without Dean, and Dean hurried in order to open the door for them. "You want something to drink? Are you tired? I want to take a quick shower before going to sleep."

Cas turned to Dean and kissed him abruptly. He led them to the bedroom where he peeled off all his clothing, as well as his own. Cas kissed him hungrily, he touched him everywhere, desperately, as though he needed this to breathe because that's how Dean was feeling.

Cas prepared Dean's opening before fucking him earnestly. His hands clutching at Dean's thighs, his lips trailing lines up Dean's torso, devouring his lips.

Dean stared up at Cas, but Cas didn't make eyes contact. One time, though, their eyes met in between a thrust, and Dean saw the sadness in his eyes, like something was broken in him. Dean reached a hand to Castiel's cheek, pulling him close, bringing his face down for another kiss.

Cas stroked Dean's cock as he moved in and out of him, but Cas came before he did, and Dean relished in the look of complete bliss flashing in Cas' face. For a second, there was nothing but happiness in him. Dean wanted to keep that memory forever. He wanted to make Cas happy every day of his life.

With another few strokes from Castiel, and the feeling of his cock still inside him, Dean came in Cas' hands. Cas leaned down, licking at the slit of his cock as he carefully removed himself from Dean.

Dean pulled him down, and Cas fell atop him. Cas smiled, just once, but it was worth seeing. When Cas kissed him again, he pulled the covers on top of them, holding Cas tight because something in the back of his mind told him there was something wrong here.

But he was so tired, and when he felt Cas running his warm hands through his hair, he was lulled to sleep.

When Dean woke up, it was way past 7 P.M. He'd slept almost all day long. The bed was empty, but Dean wasn't immediately alarmed because Cas could be anywhere else around the house.

"Cas," Dean called out for him. No response. "Cas, where are you?"

Dean got out of bed, picking up his boxer briefs from the floor and putting them on. He walked out of the room, and the house felt cold and quiet. He ignored the feeling at the pit of his stomach as he checked in the bathroom, the guest room, and every other space in the house where Cas could have hidden.

When Dean got dressed and walked down to the parking lot, he didn't expect to see the Impala or any sign of Cas. And when he called him, he didn't expect Cas to answer.

And yet, the disappointment and sorrow sank deep within him. It was something he knew Anna, nor any other angel, would be able to heal.


	8. The Hunter

ONE MONTH LATER

Dean had been officially unemployed for a week. After his letter of resignation, Zach was so distraught that Dean agreed to work three more weeks before he found his replacement.

Dean wasn't able to get out of his apartment lease without an enormous fee, but he agreed to pay it. The lease was his last string of attachment before leaving.

Last time he'd gone to visit John, he was having a BBQ with a few old friends, including Bobby. John didn't even look upset over losing Adam's statue anymore. Charlie was always there nowadays, keeping him company. Dean was happy to see how John treated her like the daughter he never had. He knew they were safe there because Charlie apparently had an archangel on her shoulders to protect her.

It was Sam who he still owed a goodbye to. He knew Sam disapproved of his future plans, but Dean wouldn't be talked out of it. His mind was made up, his Prius was traded for a classic '66 Mustang in a shiny coat of red, and he was ready to hit the road.

Sam opened the door, having expected Dean, letting him in. "How are you?"

Dean sighed, flopping down on the couch. "Honestly? A little excited."

"_Excited?_ Dean, you can't be serious." Sam joined him on the couch, shaking his head stubbornly.

"Sam, loosen up," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "I will pop in every now and then, enough so that you don't forget me."

Sam frowned. "I worry for you, I'm sorry."

"There's no reason to," Dean said. "Thank you, though. It's nice to know someone out there gives a damn about me."

Sam's frown deepened. "Have you heard anything from him?"

Dean wasn't prepared to speak of the subject, but he allowed himself the chance to vent to Sam. He was the only person who would really listen. "When I look back to it, I realize it was all so rushed. I mean, at the time I knew we were mostly acting on impulse. We thought our days were counted, maybe to him it was just a way to forget, to let go of his past." Dean looked down at his hands, his palms were sweaty. "I told him I loved him." Dean took a breath and a small pause. "And I think I still do."

Sam watched him intently. He'd never told him this before. He considered if maybe this would be awkward for Sam, but he didn't look discomforted. "Dean, I don't know what to tell you. He risked everything with you. He never abandoned you when it came to near-death situations, and maybe that's what you should remember."

Dean snorted. "I was so stupid, telling him we could get a place of our own somewhere, get a fish. He probably planned to leave all along." Dean smiled, despite himself. "We were going to teach poetry to a fish."

Sam snickered. "Lighten up, Dean. You're young."

"And sexy."

Sam laughed, and it was so pure and childlike that it made Dean smile again.

"Anyway, how are things with Jess?" Dean wondered. Sam had been private about that lately.

"Ah, well, we have another date tomorrow," Sam said, scratching the back of his neck. "We're taking things slow."

"Too slow," Dean said.

"I just want her to get used to my way of life," Sam said. "I know it got in between us, and I don't want that to happen with her. I really like her."

Dean grinned. "It's good to see you happy, Sammy. You deserve it."

"Thanks." Sam hugged him one last time.

"I guess I'll see you later, then," Dean said, walking to the front door.

Sam eyes him skeptically. "When you say later do you mean weeks, months, years…?"

Dean chuckled. "We'll see, Sammy. Wish me luck."

"Does 'don't get killed' count as good luck?" Sam said, laughing again as Dean turned on the hallway and out of sight.

Dean's first hunt went better than expected. He'd looked online for weird news stories and came upon a poltergeist. He got rid of the bothersome spirit after a thorough investigation. It was a new experience, working alone. But he knew he could do it. The family he helped was incredibly thankful, and Dean felt that warm feeling inside him he never had enough of.

But since he was kind of new to the whole thing and could use a pick-me-up, he went to the Roadhouse. He could use the familiar faces and an ice cold beer.

The place was packed, as usual, there was hardly any space left to park. Dean was glad to spot Jo mixing drinks at the bar. He walked in, shoving people aside with confidence because he was dressed like one of them, and he felt like one of them. He found an empty stool near the bar and he took it before anyone else got the chance.

Jo noticed him and quickly sent him a big smile. "Hey, long time no see."

Dean nodded, grinning as naturally as he could.

She pushed a bowl of peanuts towards him, Dean could kiss her. "And one beer," she said, sliding the glass across the counter.

"Thanks, Jo." Dean took a long sip and stuffed his mouth with the salty peanuts. Dean felt a strange sense of melancholy and loss. He was back at the Roadhouse. First time he stepped in here with Cas, he felt like an outsider. He was one, nonetheless. And now that he was here, alone, he still felt like he didn't belong.

He had the clothes, and the job, and even the car, but he was still missing something. He took another sip of his beer, trying to change his train of thought with alcohol.

Dean noticed Ellen stepping out of the back room, the part that became her house. She was yelling at the top of her lung, probably to be heard over the music, but she sounded furious.

"You lazy ass jerk!" Ellen cried back into the room. "If you want a song come put a damn dollar in the damn machine. I'm not your fucking servant!"

Dean blinked, shocked to see Ellen behaving this way in front of all her patrons. He decided to return back to his bowl of peanuts and his beer, making a mental note of saying hi to Ellen before leaving.

Jo rolled her eyes as her mom stomped her way to the restrooms. "She's been like this ever since—"

But Dean was prominently distracted from Jo when he heard a particular song playing on the jukebox, the sound entirely filling the room.

_A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…_

Dean felt his heart thrumming in his chest, but he was terrified of looking to the jukebox, afraid of whom he'd find there. Even more afraid of not finding him there.

When he gained the courage to glance over in that direction, Cas was already staring at him. Heavily bearded Cas, in dirty ragged clothes with blood-red eyes and long spiked hair.

People walked in front of Cas, but it didn't help in breaking their eye-contact. Except, neither of them moved. Dean didn't know if Cas would even want to see him, maybe he was just surprised Dean found him when he fought so hard to be unfound.

_Singing this'll be the day that I die. This'll be the day that I die._

Cas cocked his head, squinting his eyes. The gesture was so familiar that it made Dean squishy like a marshmallow. Cas was trembling now, his lower lip was quivering. Dean could resist no longer, making his way to him whether his presence was desired or not.

Dean stopped a couple feet away from Cas, fisting his hands to prevent himself from touching him from the tip of his head to the tip of his toe.

_And in the streets, the children screamed, the lovers cried and the poets dreamed._

Cas shook his head, a tear fell and rolled down his cheek. Dean thought of being up in that building, he thought of Cas pinned against the wall, of him being able to break through Euryale's hold by the sound of Castiel's voice, and he decided nothing was worse than being this close to Cas without being able to embrace him, to kiss him and feel him dissolve under his arms.

So he kissed him.

Cas gripped his hands around Dean's jacket, knitting on Dean's back, and he kissed him back fiercely and unreserved, as though he'd never left.

Dean threated his fingers through Cas' tangled hair. Cas was a mess, but Dean had never wanted to kiss him so badly.

When Dean finally pulled back, the song had ended, and he could feel a few eyes peering at them from around the place. Cas didn't loosen his grip on him, his hands were making circles on Dean's back.

Dean leaned forward to whisper in Cas' ear, "Can we go outside?" Cas pressed his lips to Dean's cheek before Dean pulled back.

"Yeah," Cas said, and they both headed outside. Cas still had an arm around him as they walked, and when they made it outside, Cas pressed him against the wall of the Roadhouse and kissed chastely at his neck. "Dean. I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry," Cas mumbled between kisses.

Dean cupped Cas' face in his hands, wanting more than anything to look at his bright blue eyes. "Cas, why the hell did you disappear like that? What happened to you?"

Cas frowned, looking away. Dean picked up his face again, waiting patiently for a response.

"I'm sorry," Cas sobbed. "I panicked, Dean."

"Panicked about us?"

Cas shook his head. "No. No, Dean, never that. When I saw you in Euryale's arms, falling into her web I thought I'd lost you. And when I told you I needed you, Dean, I didn't mean I needed you to save me. I needed you to survive, to live. I needed you to be somewhere safe, away from the danger. I thought that if I left you'd give up on hunting, that you'd go back to your old job, find someone a little less pathetic.

"I never counted on what any of this would do to me, though," Cas said, dropping his forehead onto Dean's chest. "I lasted one week on my own before coming back here, being nothing but a burden on everyone. Fucking pathetic!"

Dean picked up Cas' head, holding his face between his hands again. "You're not pathetic, Cas, but you are an idiot." Cas chuckled and Dean gave him another kiss. "Cas, listen to me, what I do or don't do with my life is my decision, and I've decided. I want to hunt. I like having the ability of helping others. It's a worthwhile way of living, despite its risks."

Another tear rolled down Castiel's eye and he sniffed. "I'm sorry I left, Dean. And I'm sorry I look like a hobo right now."

Dean laughed and kissed him again and again, until they were both breathless.

Dean tapped on the large fish tank with his finger. The big blue fish inside it swam away to hide in the Spongebob pineapple house Dean picked out. Dean looked at Cas, smirking.

"Told you he'd like it," Dean said.

Cas rolled his eyes, pouring the necessary amount of fish food into the tank. "Dean, I told you that we really don't have to do this. The fish can't hear us."

"Yes, but what if this fish is supernatural? What if this particular fish actually speaks English? You said so yourself, there are talking cats out in the world." Cas sighed.

"Dean," he said, his eyes soft and a smile already in the process of forming across his recently shaved face. "I told you that one time, as I walked away from a cat in an empty street, I heard him say something. I didn't say that animals have the ability to speak. That is scientifically impossible."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Don't get all Scully on me." He pulled their new loveseat closer to the fish tank and sat on it. He patted the empty space beside him. "Sit with me. I printed a poem out."

"Which poem?" Cas wondered, squeezing into the loveseat, resting his legs over Dean's.

Dean hid the poem from Cas, skipping down to the middle, the part he liked the most. "If you think it long and mad/ the wind and the banners/ that passes through my life/ and you decide/ to leave me at the shore/ of the heart where I have roots/ remember/ that on that day/ at that hour/ I shall lift my arms/ and my roots will set off/ to seek another land."

Cas stared at Dean, and then he snatched the paper from his hands. "Give me that. Oooh Neruda." He cleared his throat. "But/ if each day/ each hour/ you feel that you are destined for me/ with implacable sweetness/ if each day a flower/ climbs up to your lips to seek me/ ah my love, ah my own/ in me all that fire is repeated/ in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten/ my love feeds on your love, beloved/ and as long as you live it will be in your arms/ without leaving mine."

Dean kissed Cas, unable to resist his lips in motion. "You sound so sexy reading poetry."

Cas rolled his eyes and glanced over at fish that stood, still, outside of his pineapple house. "Huh. It looks like he's actually listening."

"Or maybe he's just a creep who wants to watch us making out."

Cas laughed, hanging an arm around Dean's neck. "Should his name be Dean, then?"

Dean smiled. "That's right. Dean Junior. And if he dies, the next one will be Cas Junior."

"Don't scare the poor fish," Cas said, running his other hand through Dean's hair. "But maybe we _should_ get him another fish to play with."

"I'm sure Dean Junior will be very happy to have a little Cas in there to mate with."

"_Dean_," Cas said. Dean laughed.

Cas kissed him, and Dean felt his lips quirking up.

"Home sweet home," Dean said, resting his forehead against Castiel's.


End file.
